Wonder Woman and Superman in Battle of the Sexes
by NWHS
Summary: What happens when a competitive Clark challenges a prideful Diana, a battle of the sexes, of course. (New 52)
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

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**Battle of the Sexes**

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**Chapter 1**

Diana couldn't believe she'd agreed to this. Her reluctant acquiescence had come in a weak moment, torn as she was between knowing a plan of action was likely necessary and the truth.

"This is going to be so much fun," Zola squealed, clapping her hands in child-like anticipation.

"I cannot believe you agreed to let this one" —Hera hooked her thumb in Zola's direction— "help you. She is the absolute last person you should be taking relationship advice from."

They sat in their living room, Diana on one end of the loveseat, Hera on a beige club chair, and Zola on the coach across from Diana, baby Zeke next to her, eyes open and taking in the scene before him.

"Speak for yourself, Hera."

At this point, three months ago, maybe less, Zola would've added a dig about Hera being unable to keep her husband's interest long enough for him not to stray. And, in return, Hera would call Zola a whore, slut, or homewreaker. The fact that the little disagreement hadn't devolved into a messy cat fight almost made tonight's gathering worth the headache Diana was courting.

"Diana, listen to me, the last thing you should do is pretend to be someone you're not."

"She won't be pretending, not really."

"She is a princess and demigoddess, for goodness' sake, Zola, not—"

"A mere mortal? Like the two of us?"

Hera shuddered at the truth of Zola's words, but, like the former Queen of Olympus she was, Hera's chin lifted, pride and stubbornness holding it aloft.

"Yes, like us. She's not like us. Diana is more."

"Diana is a woman. It doesn't matter that she's also a princess or the daughter of a god. Diana is no longer on Paradise Island or lives on Olympus with the rest of her freaky family. She's decided to live among the average Joe and Jane Doe."

"But as Wonder Woman not some fictitious Diana Prince."

"True, but Wonder Woman and Superman can't go out without being bombarded by nosey news reporters. They can't keep doing what they've been doing these past months. They shouldn't have to hide their relationship."

"And Diana shouldn't have to hide who she is. Not for a man, not for anyone."

The two continued to bicker, keeping it civil and their voices low as to not disturb little Zeke, whose eyes were beginning to drift closed.

When the doorbell chimed, Diana didn't bother excusing herself to answer the door, the women were clearly too engrossed in their argument to have heard the bell or notice when Diana left the room.

As annoying as it was to sit through yet another argument between Hera and Zola, today's disagreement was made worst by the fact that each had voiced Diana's own conflicted concerns. The secret part of her and Clark's relationship had never sat right with Diana, especially after it became clear that their relationship was more than just two lonely people deciding to spend time together.

Despite Diana's desire to become a full part of Clark Kent's world, the thought of having to do so through lies and half-truths had her stomach roiling with disapproval, rejecting the idea outright.

Yet she'd decided to try, to give it her best Amazonian effort. Clark had invited Diana to a housewarming his best friend and former colleague, Lois Lane, and her boyfriend were throwing for their friends. Outside of the impromptu trip to Smallville and the old Kent family farm, days after their first kiss, this was the first time Clark had sought to merge his life as Clark Kent, Metropolis resident and blogger, with his relationship with Diana.

The bell rang again, and Diana realized she'd been standing in the foyer, gazing at the door, mind a million miles away. Giving herself a mental shake, Diana got her legs moving, made it to the door, reached for the handle and opened the door.

There, on the other side, was Clark Kent, hair mussed, nonprescription glasses on, shirt and slacks a bit rumpled.

He was absolutely adorable in his boy-next-door guise. Diana could admit that much, although no amount of superficial covering could mask the true man beneath. And when he smiled his happy-to-see-you smile and Diana's heart lurched in her chest, she knew this was the real reason why she'd agreed to tonight.

Clark made her feel emotions she'd never experienced before. It was exhilarating but also frightening. A man shouldn't have this type of effect on an Amazon, and, in some ways, it discomforted Diana knowing Clark did.

"Hello, Diana."

Realizing, once more, that she'd drifted off, Diana stepped aside, permitting Clark to enter. Closing and locking the door behind him, Diana returned his greeting. "Good evening, Clark."

His boyish smile was back, but, as always, a glimmer of naughty Clark lurked beneath. The way his blue eyes drifted languidly down her body had Diana blushing and warming at the same time.

"We're not alone," she thought it necessary to remind him.

"I know. Three heartbeats." He pointed to the wall that separated the foyer from the living room. "In there. Hera, Zola, and the baby."

Clark stepped closer, shredding the few feet between them with his hard, masculine body. A hand rose to her waist then slipped around to her lower back. With a single tug, Clark had Diana pressed against him, their thighs, hips, and chests touching.

He felt so good, strong, the way a man should be, Superman despite the Clark Kent veneer.

"I figure if I don't do it now, I may not get a chance to."

"Do what?"

"This." Clark's mouth took Diana's in a hungry press of lips. For a powerful man, Clark's lips were tantalizingly soft, his kiss wicked but tender. His tongue peeked out, tasting and sweeping from one lip to the other, from one end of Diana's mouth to the other.

She opened for him, letting him in, allowed Clark to own and control the kiss. Not because he was so demanding and Diana a passive recipient but because he'd silently requested and she'd silently consented.

He drew the kiss out, taking his time and thoroughly exploring her mouth. Hand dropped to her backside and, like Clark's tongue, it too explored, knowing just how to touch, how to make her—

Diana moaned.

Yes, Clark's proficient hands knew how to make her do that so well.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, Diana pulled Clark even closer, deepening the kiss, their contact, adding to the rising heat between them. All thoughts of the three people in the other room and the reason for tonight's visit were forgotten under the onslaught of Clark's passionate kiss.

She wanted more, wanted to forget Zola's plan and fly Clark to her room, stripping them both bare when they got there. But she'd committed herself to tonight and the housewarming party. Diana wouldn't permit lust, hers or Clark's, to distract them, no matter how great the temptation.

With a determination that came with being the daughter of an Amazon queen, Diana broke off the kiss, and slowly disengaged herself from Clark's embrace.

Eyes the color of a starry night stared down at Diana, blue-black with unfulfilled desire, but also with dawning comprehension.

Clark visibly shook himself. "Right, right. Umm, sorry. I didn't mean to take it that far. It's just, well, it's . . . never mind." He combed a hand through his hair and took three deep breaths. "Never mind."

Diana couldn't help but smile. Clark was unaccountably sexy.

Grabbing his hand, Diana led him out of the foyer, down a short hallway and into the living room.

Zola and Hera, thank the gods, were no longer bickering. But Zola stared at Diana then skewered Clark with an even harder visual inspection.

A pixie smile creased Zola's face then she turned away from them and to Hera. "You owe me five bucks. I told you they were making out."

Hera's gaze settled on them, but not nearly as long or as interested as Zola's had been. She touched one manicured fingered to her mouth. "There are always tells, Zola, even when a man thinks he's thought of them all."

_Tells? What in the world is she— _Diana looked at Clark, whose face was beet red from embarrassment, and there, on his delectable lips was his tell.

Grabbing a Kleenex from a tissue box on a table near the door, Diana wiped her lipstick from Clark's mouth.

He gave her a grateful smile.

"Hello, Clark, nice to see you again."

"Hi, Hera, good to see you as well. You're looking as lovely as ever. That green dress brings out the color of your eyes."

Hera beamed at Clark's blatant compliment.

"And hello to you, Zola. How is Zeke? Ah, sleeping I see."

"Yeah, well, for now. But I'm sure he'll be up and wanting you to play with him before the night is over."

Clark, Diana had discovered, was very good with babies. He knew precisely how to hold them, could even tell a cry of hunger from one of boredom, agitation, or fright. Clark also didn't speak to Zeke in an annoying baby babble voice Diana had seen some adults do with children, especially infants. He spoke to Zeke as if he were a person, just smaller in size, capable of understanding him, if only in time.

Diana found that she liked that, liked how comfortable Clark was with someone so much smaller and weaker than himself. It was what made him such a wonderful and beloved superhero, what made him an even better man.

Diana returned to her spot on the loveseat, and Clark joined her. Surprisingly, she found herself becoming nervous when Zola pulled out a stack of small, white cards from a red-and-yellow "Battle of the Sexes: Couples Edition" box.

"Where did you get that?" Diana asked, irritation replacing nerves.

"From your bedroom closet."

"I meant why were you in my room, going through my belongings?"

"I was looking for that book you said I could borrow. You have that storage chest in your closet full of books and miscellaneous Amazon crap. I found it in there. I thought it would be perfect for tonight. I mean, well maybe not perfect since it's meant to be played with at least one other couple. But it will do; I think. The questions are still good, no matter how we decide to use them."

"You should've told me we would be using questions from that stupid game."

"Stupid? If it's so stupid, why did you buy it?"

"I didn't purchase it; Steve did."

The statement was out before Diana had a chance to consider that blurting such a thing in front of Clark probably wasn't the wisest of ideas.

She sensed, rather than saw, Clark stiffen beside her.

Zola's eyes flew to Clark and no one spoke except, of course, Hera.

"Now that you've both made what's sure to be an awkward evening more so, why don't you all just start. The sooner you do, the sooner this lunacy will be over and I can turn in for the night."

"No one's stopping you," Zola said. "You can go up to your room now."

Hera huddled deeper into the soft cushions of the chair, a throw cover over her lap.

"I think not. I doubt anything I'd read in a book or watch on television will be as entertaining as the three of you."

"We will go on. Just keep your opinions to yourself and don't interrupt."

"Perhaps we should do this another night," Diana suggested. "Clark and I know each other pretty well. We don't need—"

"It's all right, Diana. Just relax and try to have fun. We're all here, might as well do this now. The fact that you played this game before with Steve doesn't bother me."

Diana was pretty sure the last sentence Clark had spoken was, at most, a self-delusion, at worst, a lie. For a reason Diana had yet to figure out, Clark always bristled when someone mentioned that she and Steve used to date. There was, as Clark knew, nothing between Diana and Steve, barely even the friendship she valued. Yet, on occasion, an irrational haze of jealousy would pass his eyes.

"Steve thought it would be fun, but we never really played. We thumbed through the cards and asked each other a few questions."

And then they'd gotten distracted by other things, beginning with Steve tickling Diana and ending with them undressed and on her bed. Clark didn't need to know all of that, no more than she wished for him to regale her with memories of his past relationships.

"You're right, you came all this way, might as well go through with the plan."

The smile Clark gave her seemed forced, and Diana wondered if he'd glimpsed the rest of the story in her eyes.

"Okay, great, let's begin." Zola plucked a card from the stack she held in her hands. "I went through all of the cards and pulled out the ones I thought people at a housewarming might ask, as well as general questions a normal couple should know about each other."

"They aren't a normal couple," Hera said from her spot in the corner. "Am I the only one who remembers this crucial fact? He's an alien and Diana an Amazon with divine blood. Those people she'll meet aren't worth all this effort. Why should she have to pretend to be someone she's not, someone far less than who she truly is? For that matter, why should you, Superman?"

Again, no one spoke, not even Zola in challenge and opposition. The awkward silence lingered until Clark leaned into Diana, placed a chaste kiss to her cheek and said, "Thank you for doing this. I know it's more for me than it is for you. I just want you to know how much I appreciate your effort. If we date and go out as Clark and Diana, we'll have far more privacy and freedom to do what we want than we would as Wonder Woman and Superman."

Funny how, for the first time in her life, Diana questioned how much freedom her powers afforded her. In most things, they gave Diana tremendous freedom, but in this, not nearly as much as she would like, as she and Clark deserved.

"You two are so cute." Zola glanced down at her still sleeping son then back to Diana and Clark. "But, really, on the weird bordering on incest side of things, the two of you could pass for siblings. I mean the dark hair, blue eyes, tall bodies and muscular builds, to have so many similar features is kind of bizarre. Even the red-and-blue of your costumes match."

Diana could only stare at her friend. Had she just compared them to a brother and sister who have sex with each other? Diana was pretty sure Zola had done exactly that, in her tactless way.

Hera laughed. "And here I thought I was the only one who'd noticed. Moon and Apollo have nothing on the two of you, and they're twins." More laughter floated from Hera's side of the room.

"Clark and I look nothing alike." She shifted to look at Clark, only to see Hera's mirth had infected him as well. "You can't be serious?"

"What? It's funny because it's obvious and true. Not the incest part, that's just nasty on so many yuck factor levels. But we do resemble each other. There's nothing wrong with that."

This night kept getting stranger and stranger, and Zola had yet to pose the first damn question.

"Just read the first card." Diana slumped against the cushions, sensing a bout of moodiness coming on.

"Okay, this one is for Clark. Does your partner prefer winter or summer?"

"That's an easy one." Clark glanced at Diana, taking in her tank top, shorts, and bare feet. "Summer. Definitely summer."

"You would have to be a total idiot to get that one wrong. For goodness' sake, the girl grew up on an island that's perpetually in summer. And here it is, the middle of winter, and she dresses like she's going to the beach."

Zola raised an annoyed eyebrow at Hera. "Are you planning on commenting all evening?"

"I wouldn't have to if you asked better questions."

"So that's one point for me," Clark said.

Diana narrowed her eyes at him. "We're not keeping score."

"Why not?"

"You're so competitive, Clark. It's not about points but getting the answers correct."

"I know that, and every correct answer is worth a point. The way I see it, I have one to your zero."

"Stop trying to goad me into your little battle of Superman versus Wonder Woman. I'm not taking the bait. Besides, you don't want to challenge an Amazon."

A strong finger poked her in the shoulder. "Sure I do, Diana. Let's up the ante of this game. Make it truly interesting."

The challenge almost piqued her interest, but Diana wasn't in the mood for Clark's games. That was until he said, in a voice so low that only Diana could hear, "If I lose, I'll do that little strip tease and dance number you like so much. I'll even wear the frilly handcuffs and let you—"

"Just because I can't hear what you're saying, Clark," Zola interrupted, "doesn't mean I don't know what you're talking about. And Diana is blushing furiously. So, yeah, cut out the sex talk so I can ask Diana her question."

Recalling Clark's last mouthwatering dance he'd treated her to, Diana mouthed "Deal," to Clark when Zola peered down at the white card in her hand.

Clark grinned with triumph, then Diana realized her mistake. Dammit, she hadn't heard what she would have to do for him if she lost. No matter, she simply wouldn't lose to the Man of Steel.

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**TO BE CONTINUED**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

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This was actually nice, being in Diana's home with her friends, laughing and talking. Clark had to admit, part of the appeal was that Zola and Hera knew Diana was Wonder Woman and Clark Superman. He could relax and be himself, unconcerned with what he said or did. The two women understood his and Diana's world, and they could be trusted to keep his secret. Diana trusted them, and Clark trusted Diana.

This was her life, filled with people with whom she didn't have to keep any part of herself from. In a way, Clark envied Diana this. But this life, as appealing as it was on the surface, held drawbacks Clark knew Diana hadn't yet realized.

Diana, in many ways, was a deeply private person, with moments of introversion when she wasn't in hero mode. Between work with the Justice League and protecting Zola and Zeke, Diana has precious little time to simply be herself. But how could she do that if all people saw when they looked at her was Wonder Woman? To Clark's knowledge, Diana's down time consisted of dates with him and outings with Hessia. Even when she was at home, part of her was constantly alert for a threat that might come for Zeke.

Diana was a young woman of only twenty-three years. Yet she rarely acted the role, compelled to adopt a much older outlook on life with each responsibility she undertook. Being Diana Prince every now and again wasn't a perfect solution, but it would give her a greater opportunity to enjoy her youth and the freedom that should come with being a woman of independent means.

So, no, Clark's idea for Diana to don glasses and adopt a last name and second identity wasn't all for his benefit, despite the way it might appear to others. But, yes, having a girlfriend he could introduce to his friends without the threat of being outed as Superman, was of great appeal. No use denying the obvious. And Clark hoped and prayed Diana would eventually come to see the benefit of being Diana Prince, because he damn sure knew she didn't now.

"Okay, Diana," Zola said, "I have a question for you about Clark. What is your partner's favorite pie?"

In the background, Hera snorted. "Even I know the answer to that one, if I stick to the stereotypes about people from the Midwest."

"Well, yeah, okay, but Clark's first question about Diana was pretty easy. It's only fair. Now, what's your answer, Diana?"

Clark hated to be a walking stereotype, but yes, the question was absurdly easy.

"I'm not sure," Diana hedged, "Clark likes all kinds of pies. Cakes too."

Clark's head snapped in Diana's direction to see if the woman was joking. Surely she had to know something so basic about him. How many times had he cooked for her, including Ma Kent's world famous apple pie? His favorite.

"He likes peach cobbler with vanilla bean ice cream. Clark seems to eat that a lot, almost as much as he scarfs down pecan pie." She tapped her chin, considering the insanely simple question. "But, if I had to guess, I would say Clark's favorite pie would be apple, thinly sliced red apples with cinnamon, nutmeg, lemon juice and a flaky crust. But when he's feeling daring, he likes raisins or even cranberries in the pie."

She grinned at him, wicked and daring.

Oh, the woman was toying with him, mocking him even. Fine. What was good for the goose was good for the gander. No way would Diana win this battle.

Hera cheered. "I'd say that answer trumped the summer one. Diana should get two points for style alone."

Diana winked at him and said with far too much sweetness, "No, Hera, I'll take the one point due me, which makes me and Clark even at one point apiece."

"Even for now only, princess. We have an entire night ahead of us. Don't let one right answer go to your pretty head."

The wink came again, and, if possible, sassier than before.

"This _isn't_ a competition. I think everyone is missing the point of these questions," complained Zola, her eyebrows lowering in disapproval as her gaze moved from Clark to Diana to Hera. "We're supposed to be helping Diana in case one of Clark's friends gets it into their head to get all up in their business. Which, to be honest, will be exactly what will happen when Clark's friends get a look at Diana. Even with those lame glasses you gave her, Clark, Diana is still a knock out." Zola took in Clark's questionable attire and messy hair, frowning the whole time. "And, no offense, Clark, looking like that, no way would a woman who looks like Diana give you the time of day, much less date you."

Diana uncrossed her long, lean legs and sat up, staring, open-mouthed at Zola. "That is incredibly shallow. I can't believe you said that. From Hera, yes, but not you, Zola."

Zola raised two placating hands. "I'm just voicing what people will think and say behind Clark's back. I don't agree, but the world is a shallow place, Diana. Not everyone sees people for who they are the way you do. I would guess it's that level of one-dimensional thinking that has allowed Clark to hide in plain sight. People see what they want to see. In your man's case, a nerdy, nice guy but nothing more exciting than that, definitely not a guy capable of snaring a six foot beauty."

The fact that a sprite of a woman Clark barely knew had summed up his life as Clark Kent in a few offhandedly spoken sentences was somewhat disconcerting. To his mind, being Clark Kent was much more complicated than that.

"Will it be like that?" Diana was now looking at Clark, her question clearly directed to him.

"Like what?"

"Are your friends so shallow they fail to see the true you?"

He shook his head. "Some are but most aren't. They know me, see me, just not the superhero part. For obvious reasons, I play that down. But my friends do know me."

Diana still looked doubtful, but she didn't question him further, although he could see unasked questions in her eyes. She was probably wondering about the depth and value of friendships built on so many secrets and lies. It was a point Clark chose not to dwell too deeply on.

"Here's your second question, Clark."

He straightened, so did Diana. The game was back in play and Clark was primed and ready.

"Shoot."

"Does your partner think intelligence or a sense of humor is the better quality?"

Hmm. That was actually a very good question.

Diana eyed him but gave nothing away beyond a playful smirk.

While Diana, in Clark's opinion, didn't laugh nearly enough, she did have an awesome sense of humor and enjoyed, to his surprise, slapstick comedies like the Three Stooges. And when she laughed, the sound went straight to his heart. Diana needed a man who could make her laugh, bring an easy smile to her sinfully succulent lips.

More importantly, Diana required a man who could match wits with her. Humor was fleeting, intelligence endured.

"Diana finds quality in both humor and intelligence, but she would find intelligence to be the better of the two."

"And that is one of a thousand ways Diana is different from most of her siblings. She actually uses the three pounds for something other than plotting and power plays. She's smarter than the lot of them, and they know it."

Again, from her perch in the corner, Hera revealed she was more than a pampered, dethroned queen. The woman was bright in her own right. Although something told Clark she wasn't aware of the extent of her natural wisdom without aid of her godly magic before having mortality thrust upon her. Her unasked for comments were spot on, even if said in a condescending manner, sometimes.

Clark didn't need Diana's nod and smile to tell him his answer was right, but he appreciated every time she bestowed him with one of her approving smiles.

"Two to one," Clark informed Diana, refusing to succumb to the pleasure that rippled through him each time she grinned at him in that special way of hers.

"I know. But it will soon be tied."

"Okay, I guess that's my cue to ask the next question." This time, instead of choosing a card from the top of the deck, Zola selected one from the bottom. "What could your partner spend all day doing without getting bored?"

Diana grinned again and she whispered to him, "I have two answers, but I'll give the one that keeps this game PG-13." In a louder voice, she said, "Flying."

Knowing Diana's other answer, Clark's thoughts bypassed PG-13 and went straight to rated R.

"Wrong."

Diana and Clark, who'd been gazing into each other's eyes, silently remembering when they'd spent hours together in bed, neither one bored, whipped their heads in Zola's direction.

"She's not wrong. I want to win, but she gave the right answer. We're tied."

"No, Wonder Woman gave the right answer for Superman. Diana Prince gave the wrong answer for Clark Kent."

Hell, Zola was right.

From the way Diana balled her fists but said nothing, she'd been reminded of the duplicity she would have to engage when she attended Lois' and Jon's housewarming.

"Try again, Diana. This time give me an answer for Clark that would be acceptable to his friends, even if it's not the truth."

Oddly, Hera remained silent. They all did. And why not? Zola had just asked an honorable Amazon, who proudly wore the Lasso of Truth, to lie.

Voice devoid of emotion, Diana answered, giving the "correct" response this time. "Writing."

"That's much better. That's something Clark's friends will believe. It's tied up again." Zola selected the next card and posed it to Clark. "If your partner was given too much change, would they say something to the store clerk or just walk away?"

Another easy question and so damn ironic.

Taking Diana's hand, Clark held it until she faced him, all the good humor in her eyes now gone.

"She would say something to the clerk because Diana is the most honest person I know."

And he was asking her to be less than her honest self. The thought burned, but what other option did they have? Four, from the way he saw it. One, Diana could adopt a second identity and they date like a normal couple. Two, they could date as Wonder Woman and Superman, dealing with the likes of the paparazzi, yet Diana would have no place in his life as Clark Kent. Three, he could give up his Clark Kent persona, become Superman full-time and court Diana as Superman. Four, they could go their separate ways, unable to agree on and live with one of the other options.

From Clark's perspective, the first option was the least distasteful of the four. None perfect, to be sure. All required compromise, if not a concession by one or both of them.

Diana didn't reward him with one of her beguiling smiles this time, but she also didn't pull her hand away from his. It wasn't the response he'd hoped for, but he would take it.

"What color is your partner's bathrobe?"

Zola's question was jarring, snapping Clark from his inner musings.

"Blue," Diana answered. It was another point for her.

"When was the last time your partner kissed you?"

"Thirty minutes ago," Hera haughtily answered. "Ask Clark a different question, preferably one that Zeke couldn't answer."

Zola did, quickly selecting an alternative question.

"Has your partner ever skinny-dipped?"

Clark didn't have to ponder this question. He knew the answer. "Yes." Point for him. "But not with me, so I'm thinking that's something we need to rectify, sooner rather than later."

With a wink from Clark this time, Diana's smile was back.

"How old was your partner when they had their first romantic kiss?"

Diana knew the answer to that question. Clark had told her about Lana Lang, seeing no need not to. And, if he were being honest, he'd secretly hoped telling Diana about his first love would encourage her to reveal a bit of her relationship with Steve Trevor. Like all his stories, Diana had listened attentively, showing her interest through her questions. Yet she'd added nothing of her own first love. If indeed she'd loved Steve at all, which Clark had no doubt she had.

Then again, maybe Diana's first romantic kiss hadn't been with Trevor but with an Amazon, which wouldn't be surprising, all things considered. Clark had seen the way both men and women looked at Diana with sexual interest and Hessia, the only Amazon friend Diana had here, was a self-professed bisexual.

"Clark was sixteen."

"She's right."

Zola flipped through the cards, searching for her next question for Clark.

"Which friend would be most likely to tell your partner if you were cheating?"

"Really, Zola, you think one of my friends would ask me something like that?"

"Not really, I just wanted to know your answer."

"That's not a fair, unbiased question, Zola, and you well know it. You just want Clark to choose between you and Hera, hoping his answer will niggle Hera if he chooses you."

"First of all, let me say that I would never cheat on Diana." Hand still holding Diana's, he squeezed, putting action to his truthful words. He would never do a thing to her. "But if I have to answer—"

"You don't, Clark. Zola can ask another question, preferably one not self-serving."

Clark glanced over Diana's shoulder and at a quiet Hera. "The queen would tell Diana if I ever lost my mind enough to betray her. Which, again, I would never do. Just to be absolutely clear."

"What?"

Zeke stirred when his mother raised her voice, but quickly settled when Zola began to rub his back in reassuring circles.

"Why not me? Do you think I would keep something like that from Diana?"

"Well, umm, yeah."

_"What?"_

Zola screamed the four letter word this time, bolting Zeke awake and into a fit of tears and whimpers. She hoisted the baby onto her shoulder and began to coo and pat his back.

"Why Hera?" Diana asked, seemingly as surprised by his answer as Zola. "Because of what Zeus did to her? Even still, I think Zola would tell me before Hera would. She's my best friend."

Clark curled a finger around a lock of Diana's hair. "She's your best friend, like you said, that's why Zola would hesitate to tell you if I cheated. But, umm, Diana, you did hear me say that I would never cheat, so that question is pretty much moot."

"Yes, yes, I heard you, Clark. I know you wouldn't. I trust you."

"Good to know. I trust you'll never cheat either."

"Because I wear the Lasso of Truth?" she asked, but didn't appear that she believed that to be his reasoning.

"No." Two more fingers joined the first, toying with more of Diana's thick, black hair. "Because you would break up with me before you dishonored yourself by being unfaithful."

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Clark knew them to be true. But a secondary truth hid within the first. Diana had proven herself capable of ending a relationship with a man for whom she cared deeply. Clark doubted seriously if Steve had been stupid enough to stray. The colonel wouldn't have cheated on Diana. Despite what Steve clearly wanted Diana and others to believe, Clark knew the man still loved the princess.

No, Diana wouldn't cheat, but, if given good enough reason, she would leave Clark.

"What's wrong? Why are you frowning?"

Frowning? Dammit, Clark hadn't realized he'd let his face betray his thoughts.

"Why did you break up with Steve?"

His question shocked them both, but now that it was out, Clark was glad he'd finally asked.

"That's not one of the questions on the cards." Zola said, reminding Clark of her presence. "You don't have to answer, Diana."

Clark let his hand drop from Diana's hair.

Unsure, blue eyes stared back at him. Clark could see the war within. Diana did not want him to know, which made Clark want to know even the more. Then they blazed to life with fire and challenge.

Her wicked, Amazon smile nearly floored him. "If you win, I'll tell you. If you don't, you promise to stop worrying about what I once had with Steve and focus on what I now have with you."

Diana extended her right hand.

Instead of promising with a handshake, Clark leaned in and claimed a quick, hard kiss.

"Deal, but be prepared to tell me when you lose."

"When _you _lose, be prepared to go nice and slow when you dance for me. No super speed allowed."

"If you two could stop flirting with each other for all of two minutes, I could get through more questions. By last count, you guys are still tied. And now that I've got Zeke back to sleep, I can continue. Whose turn is it?"

"It's mine, and Clark is up by one point. After considering his reasoning, Clark's answer to the last question was right. But I didn't answer his question. So go ahead, Zola, it's my turn."

"Don't think you can hide behind Diana, Clark. When this over, I want to talk to you about that answer of yours, because I would so tell Diana if you crept out on her."

Clark laughed, knowing the tiny woman was serious. She would burn his ears, and he would listen because her indignation came from her love for Diana.

"What sport did your partner play at school?"

"Football," was Diana's quick, self-assured reply. "Now we're tied, again."

Yes, they were.

"Next question."

"Okay, okay, calm down, Mr. Competitive. Give me a chance to find one."

Diana lifted her legs and settled them over his thighs, looking so beautiful and comfortable in her skin. With no deliberate effort on her part, Diana seduced Clark just by being herself.

"What's your partner's favorite nighttime snack?" Zola asked, her voice appropriately low for the napping Zeke.

"Strawberry ice cream." Clark knew he was right, because Diana ate it as if she were a mother expecting her first child, grumpy as hell if she didn't have it on hand during one of her cravings.

Diana shook her head, smiling at him with smugness.

"No? You always have strawberry ice cream before you turn in for the night."

"True, but that's not the same as it being my favorite nighttime snack."

Dammit, that was true. But what? Clark couldn't think of any food Diana enjoyed more than strawberry ice cream.

"What then?"

"Tagenites?"

Zola asked before Clark could. "What are tagenites?"

"They are," Hera began, "what you would call pancakes. They are made with wheat flour, olive oil, honey, and curdled milk."

"I haven't found anyone who can make them as good as my sisters, not even me, so I don't bother. But they are my favorite nighttime snack, Clark. And, with that wrong answer, I am up by one."

"Not quite, you have to correctly answer your next question."

"Oh, I will."

"I should've known you would hook up with someone who likes to be right as much as you do, Diana."

"Just ask the next question, so I can take the lead."

Huffing, probably regretting having started this little battle of the sexes, Zola scanned the cards for the next question.

"What is your partner's favorite online game?"

"What kind of question is that?" Diana complained, irritation dousing her confidence.

"Your question, my dear, now answer the woman."

"That's not a real question."

"It's as real as your tagenites," Clark said, knowing there was no way in hell Diana knew the answer to the question.

The way Diana crossed her arms over her impressive chest and glared at Zola then Clark, he couldn't help but give Diana his best pompous grin.

"Fine. I have no idea what ridiculous online game Clark plays. Which, considering he uses the computer and Internet for a living and is Superman, I'm sure it's something political or action oriented."

Okay, now Clark just felt stupid. After that, no way did he want to tell the women his favorite online game. But that wasn't how it worked. Despite the competitive game Clark had turned tonight into, the real purpose of the questions was not simply for them to answer them correctly, but to help Diana get used to thinking of Clark as not Superman, Clark, and Kal-El, but simply as Clark Kent when she was with people who only knew him that way.

Clark realized three sets of eyes were on him, waiting for his answer. He had two actually, neither of which he wanted to share with the women in the room, especially Diana, who Clark doubted had played an online game in her life.

Swallowing, Clark blurted, "_Whack Your PC_ and _Slap the Monkey_. There, now you know. Can we move on?"

Diana's brows furrowed, confusion evident. Slowly, she repeated what he'd said. The titles of the games sounded indicting when they rolled off her accented tongue. Then her eyes lowered to the crotch of his pants, before moving back to his face.

"They aren't _that_ kind of games, Diana, despite the names."

"What kind of games?" Diana asked, as if now seriously wondering what he did when he was alone and in front of his computer."

Hera, of course, decided this was a good time to add her two cents. "Zola, I thought you told me that whacking-off was when a male—"

"I do not _whack-off_ while playing online games," Clark said through gritted teeth.

"So you do it at other times?" Hera asked, genuinely curious from the sound of her voice.

For Diana's part, she stared at Clark as if she were seeing him for the first time.

"No, I don't do it other times, either. I don't have to, not since—"

Catching himself before it was too late, Clark shut the hell up. He'd already said too much.

Zola giggled. "Not since you and Diana started sweatin' up the sheets. Is that what you were going to say? No need to answer, I got it."

Yeah, well, Clark was more concerned that Diana got it.

He wished he could tell whether Diana was insulted or offended, but she said nothing for long seconds, unreadable eyes boring into him.

Then she burst into uproarious laughter, eyes bright with humor. "I can't believe you slap your monkey while whacking your PC. I'll give you the win if you let me share this story at our next JL meeting."

Zola and Hera joined Diana in her taunting laughter.

Sliding Diana's feet off his lap, Clark stood with all the dignity he could muster. Deciding he needed a bathroom break and Diana's household had far too many XX chromosomes, Clark walked towards the threshold of the living room. Turning back to the raucous group of women, Clark gave them his best, most intimidating Superman glare.

The laughter grew in volume, even drowning out the shrill cry of Zeke. Poor kid. Clark did not envy him being the only male in this household.

Clark turned on his heels and left the room.

Entering the powder room at the end of the hall, Clark closed the door behind him. _Whack Your PC _and _Slap the Monkey. What were you thinking telling them that, Clark? It doesn't matter. Shake it off. Don't let Diana psych you out._

Tonight had been full of odd but fun surprises. But Diana was right. Those questions, while entertaining, were more silly than truly enlightening. What did any of that stuff matter, anyway? Clark was sure if they continued, answering every question on those white cards, he and Diana would know must of the answers.

It wasn't that they didn't already know a lot about each other. They did. They talked all the time, and not just about mundane, basic stuff but about aspects of themselves that were private and precious. They argued and even disagreed with each other. All normal relationship stuff. That wasn't where Diana needed help being Diana Prince in Clark Kent's world.

What she needed was time to adjust, to adapt. Diana was far too perceptive and bright to slip up and reveal Clark's Superman identity. She'd proven she could do it with Bruce. The comparison wasn't a perfect one, Clark knew, but it did bespeak of a woman who understood and could respect the need for a second identity. This could work. She . . . they just needed time and patience, with each other and themselves.

But where did that leave their little battle of the sexes competition?

Clark wasn't ready to give up on that just yet, even though he wanted nothing more to do with a game purchased by Steve Trevor. Now that Clark thought about it, flushing the toilet then moving to the sink to wash his hands, there was a gift he'd bought for Valentine's Day but never gave to Diana. Even now, as he made his way back to the living room, Clark still wasn't sure if they'd gone far enough in their relationship to play such a game.

Entering the living room, he was struck, again, by the lovely, sexiness that was Diana. On the couch, back against an armrest, both legs bent with one crossed over the other, foot swinging, reading, of all things, a _Cosmopolitan_ magazine, Clark made up his mind.

When Diana looked up from her reading, catching Clark's appreciative gaze, she smiled at him and beckoned Clark closer.

His feet remained rooted to where he stood. With the lustful way he was feeling combined with the naughty girl, come hither look Diana was discreetly shooting him, no way was Clark going to risk getting any closer to her. Instead, he laid down a challenge he knew her Amazon pride wouldn't allow her to ignore. "If you still think you can best this superman, then I suggest you change into traveling clothes and meet me in the sky."

With that, Clark nodded his goodbyes to Hera and Zola and swaggered out of the living room, whistling a jaunty, country tune he knew Diana would hear and fuel her even more.

Five minutes of hovering in the London night sky, Clark heard her ascend. _She must've been mulling over my challenge because it doesn't take Diana five minutes to change. _

Just to needle and set the stage for the rest of the night, Clark began to sing the same song he'd been whistling earlier.

"She's a wild rose waiting on me at the end of the road  
between the water tower and the power lines  
we're a cloud of dust once I get her buckled in my pickup truck  
She's ten pounds of sugar in a five pound sack  
A Hollywood looker in a John Deere cap

I go fast, she hollers faster,  
She's the first one up the hayloft ladder  
A girl like that's what a country boy's after  
She cranks, she cranks, she cranks my tractor  
She cranks, she cranks, she cranks my tractor"

"You know how much I detest that song," was the first thing Diana said when she broke through the clouds, hands on her luscious hips, Wonder Woman uniform fitting perfectly.

"What about this one, instead? Let there be cowgirls for every cowboy. Make 'em strong as any man. Something you can't tame, she's a Mustang. A heartbeat of a heartland. She's got a drawl, yeah. She's the salt of the earth and rocks my world. Let there be cowgirls, come on."

When Clark finished bellowing his best Chris Cagle imitation, he was sure Diana would take a swing at him. Instead, the woman simply glared at him, her face taut, body a marble statue.

Then she threw back her head and laughed – loud and long and so damn sexy.

As they made their way from London to Metropolis, dipping, swirling, and diving as they flew, Clark thought about what Hera had said about Clark and Diana not being a "normal" couple. At the time, he agreed but flying with Diana by his side, feeling the wind on his face, smelling the earth below, hearing sounds of joy, pain, and all the emotions in between, Diana's perspective crystallized. _This is her normal. My normal._

It was indeed, and Clark wouldn't have it any other way, even if that meant tamping it down so he could also be Clark Kent, which was also his normal.

Clark glanced over at Diana, who was enjoying the flight as much as himself, so relaxed and carefree Clark almost regretted what he was about to do to her.

Almost.

He began to sing, in a voice so awful it sent the birds fluttering for cover and Diana, once more, glaring her beautiful blues at him.

"Hey, hey, good lookin'  
Whatcha got cookin'?  
How's about cookin'  
Somethin' up with me?

Hey, sweet baby,  
Don't you think maybe  
We could find us  
A brand new recipe?

I got a Hot-Rod Ford  
And a two-dollar bill  
And I know a spot  
Right over the hill

There's soda pop  
And the dancin's free  
So if you wanna have fun  
Come along with me

* * *

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

* * *

Before they landed and made their way into Clark's apartment, Clark had been full of silliness and good humor. He'd serenaded Diana with awful country songs and an even worse singing voice the last third of the flight. Now, as they sat across from each other on Clark's bed, both comfortable out of their uniforms and into shorts and T-shirts, a sudden bout of uncertainty seemed to have overtaken Clark.

"What's wrong?"

"I was just wondering when I had this idea if I was thinking clearly."

"Were you thinking about getting me back because I made fun of your PC and monkey games?"

"Yes."

"Were you thinking you would like to beat me at this silly competition you started?"

"Of course."

"And were you thinking that you would like to end tonight's weirdest date ever by having sex with me?"

"Definitely."

"Then I would say your thought to bring me here to continue our game was in line with how you normally think."

Clark grinned, the first since arriving at his apartment. "How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Get straight to the heart of things? If I were in your shoes, I would've beaten around the bush awhile before posing any of those questions, particularly the last one."

When Diana first left Themyscria, she'd had no true concept of how she would be perceived. At eighteen, she'd been advanced in martial studies, languages, and some history of the outside world, but she'd been naïve in most other ways. Among them being how different, culturally, she was from everyone else. Forthrightness at home was viewed as an honorable trait all Amazons should aspire, but here, in lands so far from her home, she'd soon learned that people didn't always want to know or hear the truth, no matter how genuinely it was given.

Diana was raised to speak and act from her heart, her mind. Hippolyta would accept nothing less from her daughter, and Diana had come to believe in and live by that code. To do otherwise risked shaming self and living a life of deceptions and delusions.

"When I want to know something I ask. If I have a thought worth sharing, I do. But I am selective in what I say, and I try to be cognizant of how I express myself, lest my words and actions be misconstrued."

As they had been when she'd arrived, Steve Trevor by her side, helping her wade through the new and unfamiliar landscape of people, places, and customs.

"And when you act it's with the same forthrightness as when you speak, because you can't conceive of a reason why you shouldn't act."

There was both a judgment and a comparison in Clark's statement – for them both.

Diana stretched out her legs on the bed. This wasn't how she thought the second half of their evening would proceed. But tonight, apparently, was one for brutal honesty, if not self-reflection.

"The list of reasons people give for inaction are appallingly long – some valid others mere excuses for laziness or apathy. But the list of reasons to act is quite short – love, truth, justice."

"It's that easy for you?"

"Not easy, Clark. None of what I just said is easy, but, for me, it is just that simple. When I act, when I speak, when I make a decision, it's motivated by love, truth, and justice. Not in equal measure, not all three always at the same time, but one is always present, driving me forward, or sometimes, holding me back. Is it not the same for you?"

Diana took Clark's silence as him giving her question serious thought, which was good. The answer to the question wasn't for Diana, but for Clark, which he would understand if he had greater balance in his life, his mind, his heart. But that balance was difficult to achieve and even harder to maintain. Diana knew this, it was her struggle, as much as it was Clark's. The difference between them in how they grappled with the struggle could be found at a critical juncture – Diana acknowledged the struggle whereas Clark did not.

Or perhaps he did, but to a different degree or in a different way than Diana did.

"I value love, truth, and justice, as well. And I can see how they drive me, as both Superman and Clark Kent. But I'm not ruled by only those values, and neither are you."

"Of course not, but those are the guiding principles under which all my other values and beliefs fall. Cognitive dissonance, while unavoidable if I continue to seek enlightenment and growth, plays havoc with my heart and mind. That's the part that's hard, Clark. When an idea, belief or practice challenges one of my core values the result can be perplexing, unsettling even."

"You think I'm being unrealistic? That I can't keep living a life as Superman, Kal-El, and Clark Kent?"

"What I think is immaterial to what you think. You will and should do what is best for you, regardless of my opinion."

"But do you think me unrealistic?"

"I think you see yourself as three where only one you exists. I think you've compartmentalized your life in such a way that it lends itself to such an erroneous conclusion. And I think you believe that being Clark Kent is your only connection to the Kents and to humanity, that being born on another planet somehow makes you less human, less relatable as a man, a superhero, because you can do things that most others cannot."

Clark looked away from Diana, his eyes cast down to his lap.

This was where Diana needed to learn to keep her opinions to herself, to recognize when a person, despite asking the question, was not seeking a true answer. She still had a lot to learn about such emotional nuances and how self-deception was often masked as honesty, as the truth.

She should go. Clark didn't need Diana's cultural biases dissecting his life. She had no moral standing here, a woman who, for most of her life, had no idea she was born of a woman, no less had a father who'd never acknowledged her as his. And while she proudly called herself an Amazon, she claimed none of her godly status. So whereas Clark may define himself too broadly, Diana defined herself too narrowly, wanting nothing to do with her family of gods. If not for their constant interference in her and Zola's lives, Diana would gladly forget she had divine blood and a divine family.

"I have no idea how to respond to what you just said." His eyes were back on Diana. "No one but Bruce has ever talked to me like that before. Although Bruce tends to lecture or scold, which makes it real hard for me to listen to what he has to say, even when he's making perfect sense."

On this matter, Diana didn't like being compared to Batman, who, yes, took it upon himself to lecture his colleagues ad nauseam.

"Maybe I should go."

"What? No!" Clark grabbed one of Diana's hands when she made to get off of the bed. "Why? Because our conversation turned a bit touchy?"

"It's not my place. I should've kept my opinion to myself."

"I asked, Diana. I'm not a child. I know my mind, and I know you. I'm not saying your assessment of me is correct or that I agree, but I respect your perspective, your unique way of viewing me and the world. Talking to you gives me food for thought, putting a spotlight on things I would happily ignore. You challenge me to be more, to be all of myself, to take risks, to do things I wouldn't ordinarily consider."

Diana couldn't help but wonder if Clark thought that being with her, having Diana in his well-delineated life was a risk, a risk he would eventually regret having taken. That was a possible reality, perhaps an inevitable outgrowth of their relationship. She hoped such a fate would never come to pass, but it was within the realm of possibility. Diana and Clark, after all, were stubborn and set in their ways. The question was what and how much they were willing to compromise in order to be together, to stay together.

To that, Diana had no answer.

"I have a card game I hope you will be willing to play with me. I bought it for Valentine's Day but was unsure whether to give it to you or not, so I opted to hold on to it. I was hoping we could play it tonight."

This was too much of a déjà vu moment for Diana's liking. Steve had said something similar when he'd brought the _Battle of the Sexes_ game to her house. Like Clark, he'd been nervous about her reaction. What was it with men, her, and card games?

Considering they were alone and on Clark's bed, why were they having a heart-to-heart and considering playing yet another game instead of having sex? Things between them were so much simpler when they were making love. Why did men have to make life so damn complicated?

Clark slid closer to Diana, his hand going to her hand. "I know it's none of my business, and if you tell me that, I'll just have to accept it. But I would like to know why you broke things off with Trevor. I mean, sure, he's a little long in the tooth compared to you, but there's no doubt the guy loves you, worships you."

Diana had only ever spoken to Hessia about Steve and their breakup. It was no one else's business, especially not the press. But Clark was different. And while being in a relationship with Clark did not entitle him to details of her past romances, no more than Diana was entitled to know about the women in Clark's life who came before Diana, her relationship with Steve clearly bothered Clark.

"I know we made it part of the competition, but I think it's worth talking about no matter who wins."

"Why does it matter so much to you? Steve and I were over long before we got together. It's not as if I left him for you."

"I know. Call it paranoia or jealousy, but I can't shake the feeling that if I knew the reason why you left him it would give me a clearer picture of our relationship. I know that doesn't make much sense. I even feel stupid having given voice to my insecurities, but there it is."

A stroke of her hand, then a vulnerable smile.

She sighed. Clark Kent would be the emotional doom of Diana.

"You have no reason to be jealous of Steve. But if knowing the truth will give you whatever it is you seek, I will tell you."

Clark looked as if he would speak but said nothing. For that, Diana was grateful, because she didn't think her answer would set his mind at ease the way he hoped it would. But he'd asked, and if he were unsatisfied with the answer, Clark would just have to figure out how to deal with it, because she would have no other answers to give him.

_And if he can't? What will you do then?_

Diana didn't want to think about it. Instead, she opened the vault to the past.

"Steve Trevor is a good man. If he hadn't been, my mother and sisters would've never allowed him to live past his plane crash. And just as I'd never seen a man before, Steve had never met anyone like me before. So we learned from each other, and he served as my guide into his world, your world."

"Did you leave Paradise Island because you wanted to be with him?"

Too many people thought that the reason. Amazons, even ones as young as Diana had been when she'd left home, didn't allow mere infatuation to rule one's head. Hippolyta had raised Diana to have far more sense than that.

"That's another vault to open, Clark, tonight I'll permit you to peer into only one."

"Right, sorry. I didn't mean to pry."

"It's only prying if I wish to not tell you. That's not the case, but I'd rather not do both tonight. Besides, you have a Valentine's gift to give me and we're already into the month of March. Unless, of course, it's your intent to hold on to it until my birthday."

"Not a chance. I already have a gift in mind for your birthday, don't you worry."

"Does it involve a striptease and dance?"

"Maybe," he played. "If you're very, very nice to me."

"Aren't I always nice to you, Mr. Kent?"

"Umm, yes, but I prefer when you're being bad. Very, very bad."

His face was mere inches from hers now. The thought of kissing her clear in his glowing, blue eyes.

"If I kiss you, I won't stop."

"I wouldn't want you to."

"But then I won't have my answer."

"How many points is it worth to you?"

"I thought you didn't want to keep score."

Diana could feel the warmth of Clark's minty breath. Lips so close, but not close enough to put an end to the tease and torture.

"I care nothing for score keeping, but I do like to win."

"So do I."

Another whisper across her lips.

"I'll give you three points, if you tell me now."

Her response was immediate. It was time to tell all.

"Steve asked me to marry him. I said 'no'."

That had Clark pulling back, frowning as if he'd swallowed a sour candy.

"He what?"

"Asked me to be his wife."

"And you turned the man down?"

She had. And the image of Steve's shocked and hurt face was forever burned in her mind.

"Yes," she answered Clark, the same word she couldn't give Steve to his proposal.

"Did you not love him?"

Oh, she had loved Steve. In her own way, Diana still did.

"It wasn't as simplistic as love. I did love Steve. He was the first man I loved. But, Clark, I was barely twenty-two, only four years away from home and my mother and sisters. What did I know of romantic liaisons between a man and a woman, of marriage?"

"Nothing, I suppose."

No, Diana had known less than nothing. Amazons did not marry. They took companions of the body and companions of the heart. When there was mutual agreement, fidelity was practiced and even co-habitation. But nothing more formal than that, no godly blessings or promises to the community. Even the queen remained neutral on such pairings, although Diana knew her mother's neutrality would end with Diana.

"I knew Steve loved me, the way a man should love the woman he wished to become his wife. But you were also right about him worshipping me, as well. He would never admit it, but, I suppose, I had always known. I don't wish to be worshipped by anyone, Clark, especially not my husband."

"So that's why you ended things with Steve, because he saw you more as a goddess than a woman?"

That had been part of Diana's decision to reject his offer, but it hadn't been the primary reason.

"Steve was the first man I had ever seen, the first man I trusted, the first man to make me laugh, the first man to introduce me to countless experiences for which I will be forever grateful."

"And the first man to make love to you."

It wasn't a question, neither of them had come to this relationship wearing virginal white. But there had been an emotion in Clark's voice that Diana couldn't name. Jealousy was too tame a word to capture what she'd sensed from him.

"Yes, that came later. I was young and inexperienced and not hardly ready for an intimate relationship with Steve or any other. He understood."

"He waited for you to become ready? To want him as much as he desired you?"

"Yes."

At least for the physical act, Diana had been ready, but relationships were about so much more than two people deciding to become lovers.

"Do you know how big of a deal that is for a man?"

She hadn't then, but she'd come to understand.

"Perhaps if he hadn't waited for me, we would still be close friends."

She did miss Steve, the close bond they'd once shared. But Diana had hurt him, and, she knew, a part of him hadn't forgiven her, maybe would never forgive her.

"Taking Steve as my consort was not a first I was willing to have with him. The way I loved Steve could be categorized best as storge love. Such love is slow in developing, based primarily on friendship and may or may not include a sexual relationship. But that's not the kind of marriage Steve wanted or deserved."

"Or you, Diana. Friendship is great, heck, I'd say lasting relationships require the couple to also be friends, to like spending time with each other." Clark touched her cheek, soothing old hurt and raw guilt. "But Eros, for you, is real. You know your nephew's power. I'd wager, Steve knows his power as well. But you . . .?"

No, she hadn't been struck by Eros' golden love bullet, at least not for Steve Trevor.

Diana took comfort in Clark's understanding, his beguiling nearness.

"I wish I could have given him what he wanted, but I couldn't. I couldn't lie to him, or myself. Marrying Steve would've been wrong, so I had to set him free."

Breaking up with Steve had been the only option Diana could live with. She would not, could not commit herself to a man she didn't love with all the passion she knew herself capable. But erotic, passionate love was also no guarantee to a long, successful relationship. The truth of that sat before her, staring at Diana with what she knew to be the same erotic love she felt for him.

"Thank you."

He'd caught Eros' golden bullet for her.

"Thank you, Diana."

She'd fought two powerful Kryptonians for him.

"Thank you for trusting me."

He'd sought her out because he knew she was hurting. He'd kissed her because there had always been an unspoken attraction between them. She'd returned the kiss because his lips brought her body and mind into spectacular alignment. And for those priceless seconds when she was in Clark's arms, thoughts of Steve and Graves disappeared into dull nothingness, leaving Diana free to enjoy another first – this one with Superman.

"I think," Clark said, his voice taking on a playful tone, "that I have a lot of catching up to do now that you're up by three points."

Before Diana could respond, Clark scrambled off his bed. He didn't go far, though. On hands and knees, Clark rummaged under his bed until he found whatever he was searching for. Triumphantly, he revealed his belated Valentine's gift.

"Since we're on the subject of erotic love, then this game is perfect."

Reaching across the bed where he still knelt, Clark handed the red box to Diana.

There was a couple on the cover. A male and a female smiling at each other and covered, to the chin, with a white blanket. She read the cover. "Cosmo's Truth or Dare: Our Naughtiest Sex Game Ever."

Diana grinned to herself. _No wonder Clark was nervous about giving this to me. Poor man. Hasn't he yet realized Amazons aren't the prudish type, especially when in the company of their chosen companion?_

"How is it played?"

Clark jumped back on the bed, happy and smiling like a kid.

"So, you wanna play?"

"Why not. Unless you're willing to conceded defeat at my wonderful hands, we'll have to play something to keep your male pride intact."

"Have I ever told you that dating an Amazon is great for my masculine ego?"

"I don't believe you have?"

"Well, consider yourself duly informed."

They grinned like love-struck fools at each other, Diana belatedly remembering she held the unopened game in her hands. She gave it back to Clark, who made quick work of opening it and pulling out cards.

"We don't have to play strictly by the rules. I figure we can take turns selecting a card. On each card is a question you can answer or a dare or challenge you can engage in if you don't wish to tell your partner the answer to the question. I figure we can earn points if the other person doesn't want to answer the question or complete the dare. How does that sound?"

Diana had no idea. She'd never heard of the game. That Clark was keen to play was enough reason for Diana to assent.

"Sounds fine."

With super speed, he moved in and kissed her soundly, nearly knocking them both off the bed in his enthusiasm.

"Great. Let's begin."

* * *

**TO BE CONTINUED**

* * *

**Author's Note:**

For any reader who is a stickler for canon, I want to note that the New 52 hasn't delved much into Diana and Steve's romantic relationship, particularly why Diana broke up with him. But I wanted to explore one possible reason why Diana would end things with a man whose been written to still love her. Though not a love triangle, a couple of comics have depicted a bit of tension between Clark and Steve over Diana. But, no, there's nothing in-text about Steve proposing to Diana and her turning him down; thereby, ending their relationship. There's also no origin story for the New 52 Diana, although I hear one is in the works. Thus, readers, even of the Wonder Woman comic, do not know why Diana left the island or how or why she became Wonder Woman. So, I decided not to go there in this short fic. I hope those gaps will soon be filled in-story.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

* * *

Five minutes ago, Clark carried his desk chair over to the bed, deciding it best for him to sit there instead of sharing the bed with Diana. Dammit, the woman was too cute and sexy in the simple white-and-red tank she wore with matching shorts. Like her Wonder Woman outfit, the shorts were form fitting, short, and showed a hell of a lot of well-defined golden flesh. If he stayed on the bed with her, the game would soon be forgotten, thrown over for lust and need.

And while most men would've chosen that course, especially with a temptress like Diana, Clark truly enjoyed the buildup, the sexual tension, their verbal foreplay. Because, hell yes, it made the final act of lovemaking even the more passionate and rewarding.

Besides, the green-eyed Kryptonian within Clark hated how many firsts Diana had experienced with Steve Trevor. Not that marriage was remotely on Clark's mind right now, although he did eventually want to marry. Yet if or when they reached a point in their relationship where they wanted to take the next logical step and Clark proposed it would not be Diana's first offer of marriage.

They were so far from that point right now, but the knowledge that Trevor had already went down that particular road had Clark kicking himself for not pursuing Diana when they'd first met. But she'd been new to his world and Clark was just defining himself as a hero, as Superman. And, like she'd said, Diana had been young at only eighteen to Clark's twenty-two.

So he'd buried his attraction for the exotic princess, turning his attentions to someone older and with more experience. _Lois. _But that had gone nowhere, despite the attraction they shared. _And now she has Jon and we are best friends. _Which had proven to be for the best, Clark now saw.

Clark wouldn't trade what he now had with Diana, even though, like Steve Trevor, he'd waited for her to be ready. To his way of thinking, a year and a few months was long enough to test the waters, to see if Diana had truly moved on from her ex. With this in mind, when Clark had found Diana sitting alone on the Lincoln Memorial, sad, lonely, and undeniably beautiful, lips full and enticing, Clark jumped into the deep end of the pool – kissing Diana the way he'd wanted to for years.

To his eternal delight, she'd responded, slow at first then with more vigor the longer they kissed. All too soon it was over, and the shadow of something—regret? uncertainty?— clouded her eyes. She'd left him there, lips tingling from where they'd touched hers, heart pumping a staccato beat, fingers eager to feel her creamy skin again, and mind locking every delicious second into his memory database. No way would Clark forget his first kiss with Wonder Woman, with Diana.

Although it hadn't been either of their first kiss, that fact made it no less nice, no less memorable, no less special.

_Like I plan to make tonight._

Raising his legs, Clark stretched them out on his bed, body seated in the straight back chair, eyes all for the woman propped against his heavy, wooden headboard.

"Okay, from the looks of things, there are two card levels." Clark lifted the small stack of pink cards. "According to the directions, there are two 'heat levels' to the truths and dares. The pink cards are identified as heat level 1 and the red cards" —Clark placed the pink cards down and pointed to the red cards by his feet— "are supposed be heat level 2."

"What does that mean?"

"It pretty much means that the truths and dares on the red cards are a bit more sensual, risqué, I guess, than the pink cards. Since this is our first time playing, let's do this." Clark split each colored deck in half and slid half of each to Diana while keeping the other half for himself. "Why don't we start off slow, selecting a few cards from the pink deck first? When we're ready, feeling a bit more comfortable with the game, we can switch to the red. Or we could just stick with the pink, if you like."

"Or we could just begin with the red."

Mmm, the suggestion was tempting. But Clark wasn't buying whatever it was Diana was selling. In fighting, the woman had experience and competency unlike anyone else he'd known, except for Batman. But she'd only had one other lover, which meant, in many ways, Diana was still quite innocent and inexperienced. And while Clark's list of lovers only exceeded Diana's by one, his upbringing hadn't been sheltered. At the very least, in high school and college, Clark had played Truth or Dare, which, depending on the rules, could get pretty wild, especially at adult couple's parties where swapping was the norm.

Clark had never gone to one of those parties, although a few of his college buddies had, regaling Clark with blow-by-blow details the following day. Clark wasn't into group play, so no, he and Diana would not be taking this game of theirs that far.

"We could, but let's hold off on the red for a few rounds."

Diana's smile was warm and knowing. "You're trying to protect me again."

"I'll always try to protect you."

"Because that's what Superman does?"

He knew she was playing with him. Diana damn sure knew it was much more than that.

"Of course, it's my job to protect damsels in distress."

Super speed barely prevented him from taking a quickly thrown pillow to his sarcastic face.

"Just for that, I'm going to let you go first."

A dark eyebrow arched. "Such the gentleman."

"I am. Ma Kent would be proud."

"That you offered to let your lover go first in a couple's sex game?"

Clark cleared his throat. "Well, umm, let's keep my mother out of tonight's activities. It kind of ruins the mood."

Diana plucked a pink card from her deck. And Clark was grateful she hadn't reminded him that he had been the one to bring up his mother, not her.

"So what do I do now?"

"Well, the easiest thing would be for you to read the question. If you don't wish to answer the question, then you're supposed to do the dare. If you don't like that option either, then you forfeit your turn and I get a point."

Diana silently read the pink card. Her lips lifted in a smile, and Clark knew she'd made her decision.

"I'll answer the question. It's simple enough."

"Okay, good, read it aloud."

"What is the worst thing about being your gender?"

Diana was right. That was a simple question. Heck, he even knew the answer.

"Having breasts."

"_What_?" blurted Clark. He couldn't have heard her correctly. "Having breasts? That's the worst part about being a female?"

Diana glanced down at her erection-producing globes and frowned. "They get in the way at the most inopportune times, especially when I'm sparring or fighting. Even with the corset, they just won't stay still, always jiggling. And don't get me started on the nipples. By the end of the day, they are so sensitive. Yes, definitely having breasts."

Clark knew his mouth hung open in absolute disbelief. How could she dislike something so wonderful, so pleasurable_? So suckable. She must be out of her Amazonian mind._

Clark snapped his mouth shut, but not before mumbling, "What about your monthly cycle? Surely that has to be worse than having breasts."

"You really are a man, Clark. Of course I hate that part of being a woman, too. But it only lasts three or four days a month then it's gone. I've had these breasts since I was seventeen, and earlier when I first started to develop at twelve. They garner far too much attention, so yes, having breasts is my answer. Your turn."

Who knew? Now Clark wondered if other women felt as Diana did. He made a mental note to ask Bruce.

Clark grabbed a pink card from his pile. Giving it a quick scan, Clark settled on answering the question. No way was he going to do the dare. Heck, he was surprised that a dare like that constituted a heat one rating. Surely the use of a toy was a red card, heat level two type of dare, which made him curious about the dares on those cards.

Not that Clark was a stuffed shirt or anything. He wasn't. And not that Clark didn't want to introduce toy play into their sex life. He did. And not that Clark hadn't already considered the first toys he wanted them to try. He had. What he didn't want was to have Diana stare at him as if he were a pervert when he revealed that, along with the _Cosmo_ game, Clark had purchased a couple of sex toys from Adam and Eve. She'd mentioned a gift for her birthday earlier, well, 'Happy birthday, Diana, here's a vibrating mood ring for me and a set of Ben Wa Balls for you.' Yeah, that wouldn't be happening anytime soon.

"Have you decided?"

"Yes. Here's the prompt and the question. Your lover has been magically transformed into an animal, and the only way to restore your lover is to make love with them. Which animal would cause you the least psychological damage?"

Diana's eyes brightened with a combination of disgust and amusement. "Wow. You must've really not wanted to complete the dare on your card if you opted to answer a question on bestiality."

"Well, just so you know, I reserve the right to revisit this dare at a later date."

"Really? That good?"

"Oh, yeah."

"So why not take the challenge now?"

"Don't tempt me."

Slowly, sensually, Diana licked her supple, painted lips. "I like tempting you, Clark. It's my favorite pastime activity."

For that bit of naughtiness, Clark mentally added a tongue teaser and feathered nipple clamps to his next Adam and Eve order.

"I'll answer the question."

"Suit yourself."

Clark thought about the prompt and question. Even though it was just for fun, Clark didn't like entertaining such a distasteful thought. Why in the world anyone would think this question sexy was beyond him. Still, an answer was required to move on and no way would he forfeit, giving Diana yet another point. He thought long and hard, tossing around one animal choice after another, none "appealing" to Clark. Then he gave up and picked the first animal that had come to his mind when he first started down this ignoble road.

"A dog, I guess," he finally said, feeling like a sex deviant for having voiced his decision aloud.

"A dog?"

"Sure. It's an animal and it's my answer. A dog. You know, man's best friend and all."

His answer clearly displeased Diana, if her knitted brow was a clue.

"What?" He responded defensively. "What should I have chosen?"

"You would have sex with a dog?"

"I don't _want_ to have sex with a dog. But if I had to in order to save your life, I suppose I would." Although Clark was sure he would have to get plenty drunk in order to actually go through with the horrid act. Even then, he doubted if he'd be able to. . . well, rise to the occasion.

"That brings the most unappealing images to mind, Clark, you do realize?"

"Well, I'm trying real hard not to think too much on it."

"What kind of dog?"

"What?"

What in the hell did that have to do with anything? Why was Diana taking seriously a response to a question that someone in editorial let slip past them? As far as Clark was concerned, the person responsible for the lack of oversight should be fired posthaste.

"I don't know what breed of dog. That wasn't part of the question."

"I'm thinking you would likely kill the poor animal if you chose a small dog, like a Yorkshire Terrier or a Chihuahua."

"I'm not going to actually have sex with a dog, Diana, so the size doesn't matter."

By this point, Clark was certain if he were a cartoon character, steam would be coming from his ears.

"Zola was considering getting Zeke a Shih Tzu when he turned one. With you around so much now, I'm not sure if that's a good idea. Maybe a gerbil or rabbit. Surely you wouldn't have sex with Bugs Bunny. Zeke would be forever scarred if Superman killed his furry little bunny with his Kryptonian Man of Steel."

Diana's teasing laugher rippled through and out of her before she'd reached her unfunny punch line. Laugh tears streamed down her face, as she wrapped arms around her heaving middle, clearly enjoying herself at Clark's expense.

If Clark was lucky, he'd pick a card that dared him to spank his partner, because Princess Diana was begging to be put over Clark's knee and shown who was in charge.

"Let's just move on. And, Diana, I am so going to get you back."

The threat broke through her laughter; the haughty arch of her eyebrows a silent challenge for him to try.

He would. There was no doubt about that. Princess Diana would most certainly reap would she'd sowed.

Diana wiped laugh tears away before taking another pink card from her deck. She first read silently then aloud. "What is the worse pick up line you've ever heard?"

At this, Diana sobered, suddenly serious. The transition so swift, the effect was jarring.

"At home, the Wonder Woman armor is an honorable dress for the strongest, bravest Amazon warrior. But here, it's viewed as so much less, something to be mocked and judged. The wearer as well."

Clark recalled the vicious, insensitive names Diana had been called when she'd arrived from Paradise Island, wearing, what some considered a "fancy swimsuit" while others thought it nothing more than a "whore's outfit". To him, she'd taken the mean jibes in stride, her chin and head always held high. But now, as Diana turned inward, seeing something Clark couldn't, he realized how hurtful those remarks had to have been. But she'd never showed, never revealed how much the public and press got to her.

"One evening Steve left me at the hotel restaurant where we were staying. We were just going to have a quick lunch before I met with the President's Secretary of State. When the check came, he realized he'd left his wallet in his hotel room. I offered to pay but he insisted."

Clark's back teeth were already grinding. By the hurt, angry way Diana looked, Clark knew he wouldn't like the rest of her story.

"Steve was gone no more than five minutes."

"What happened, Diana? Did some jerk come on to you?"

"I didn't understand what he meant. He sat down in Steve's chair. He seemed nice enough. Men and women frequently approached me, asking one question or another about being Wonder Woman or an Amazon. It was uncomfortable being the center of attention, but I tried to adapt, to accept that they were simply curious about me."

"What did the man say?"

There was a long pause that followed his question. Like always, Diana did not lower her head or eyes, they remained firmly fixed on Clark. But she said nothing, as still as the proverbial silence before the storm.

So Clark didn't speak or move either, respecting Diana's space and need to tell him in her own time.

But when she did speak, Clark knew what he'd expected to be a rude or really lame come-on, maybe even an attempt to get a little close with the famed Wonder Woman, was far worse than any of those imaginings.

"He asked me if I swallowed or spit."

Clark's eyes blazed fury red. How dare the bastard say something so vile to Diana.

"I didn't know what he was talking about, but from the way his smile had turned into a leer, I knew it was something sexual."

His question came out as a snarl. "What did you do?"

"Nothing. Steve had been only a few feet behind the man when he said that to me. Before I knew it, the man was on his back with a bloody nose and busted lip, Steve over top of him. He kept hitting the man. People were screaming, while others recorded the embarrassing incident on their cell phones. It was awful. I had to hoist Steve off of the man and carry him out of there before he was arrested."

For once, Clark was glad that Diana had been with Steve. Yet he couldn't help but wonder how many other times something like that had happened to her. Some men could be pigs, especially when in the company of a strikingly beautiful woman."

"What's the guy's name? Did he give it? Do you remember?"

She waved his questions away with a deceptively delicate looking hand. "That was five years ago, Clark."

Which meant she knew the man's name but didn't want Superman appearing on the jerk's doorstep, even for the sake of her honor.

"That should've never happened to you. I'm sorry it did."

She shrugged, as if it no longer mattered. Clark could see that it still did.

"If I give you three more points, will you give me the dead man's name?"

As he'd hoped, Diana smiled.

"Superman doesn't kill, remember?"

"This once, I'll make an exception."

"You're very sweet."

"I'm mad."

"I know. I should've never told you."

"I'm glad you did. I like it when you confide in me."

"Even when it makes you upset?"

"Especially then, Diana. The fact that you were willing to revisit a painful memory just to tell me the truth, for a game that has no meaning in the grand scheme of things, says a lot about what you think of me and how you feel about what we have and what we're trying to build."

Diana crawled from her spot at the top of the bed, stopping when she reached the edge. Lifting into the air, she inched closer until her face was directly in front of Clark's.

"You're so very sweet, Clark Kent. If Amazons swooned, I would be at your feet. Instead, this will have to do."

She kissed him, soft and as sweet as she claimed him to be. Only their mouths touched. No hands, no bodies, just gentle, exploring kisses from warm, moist mouths. It wasn't a short kiss but neither was it long or deep. It was, well, sweet.

In a graceful retreat, Diana resumed her position on the bed. "I think we're ready for the red cards now. What do you think?"

Yes, after that kiss, Clark was definitely ready for the big leagues.

"Yeah, sure. It's my turn."

"You're still down by three points."

And Clark knew he would stay down, for there was no way he could see Diana, after having answered that last question, shying away from any truth or dare, even one rated heat level two.

Clark chose a red card and immediately liked the truth question. He read it to Diana. "Describe a sexual game you would like to play with your partner."

Diana clapped her hands and smiled. "Oh, I can't wait to hear this."

Coming up with an answer to this question was insanely easy. For most men, sexual fantasies about women were a dime a dozen. But when it came to Diana, Clark's fantasies were endless. He'd just share one of his milder ones, though.

Pulling his feet from the bed, Clark sat up straight. This was where the game would get really interesting.

"Well, I thought it would be nice if we could play a game of 'Don't Get Caught'."

"What's that?"

"It would test how far we can get making out in a public place without being caught. You know, a park, nightclub, elevator, pool, the Watchtower, places like that."

"I see," Diana said, sounding, to Clark's surprised delight, intrigued by the notion of public sex.

They'd had sex in the air before, but the thrill wouldn't be the same as doing it in a place they could be caught. The more he thought about it, the more Clark liked the idea.

Diana leaned over and opened his nightstand drawer. Pulling out a ballpoint pen, she tossed it to him.

He caught it.

"Write your top locale."

"What?" She couldn't be serious.

"You're going to lose to me tonight. But you're also going to win. I'll use your game fantasy as one of my dares, but for three more points. So, on that red card write down the one place you fantasized about us having sex at without getting caught. Once done, fold the paper and hold on to it until the end of the game."

Clark didn't doubt Diana's word so, with a Cheshire grin, he hastily scribbled the name of the location and folded the card.

"I hope you picked a good place."

"Oh, I did. A very good place. Now, it's your turn."

"I think we've had enough truths for one night. A dare is in order."

Oh, baby, yes it was. _Past time._

When she plucked this time, Diana didn't read Clark the card. Instead, she gestured for him to join her on the bed.

He was next to her in less than a second. But as soon as he got on, she got off, sashaying her cute bottom out of the bedroom. Clark could hear Diana moving around in his kitchen, opening the refrigerator and then a cupboard. A minute later, she was back, holding a small cup of chocolate ice cream.

"Take off your shirt."

Clark hurriedly obliged, ripping the T-shirt in his haste.

"Lie on your back."

He did, damn near hyperventilating at the thought of what Diana would do with the ice cream.

Climbing onto the bed, Diana straddled his waist, a sexy smile playing across her lips. With a steady index finger, Diana scooped a dollop of the cold dessert out.

"You already know how much I enjoy the taste of you." She spread the ice cream on first one nipple and then the other. "With this, I'm sure you'll taste even better."

She applied more of the ice cream.

Chest

Stomach.

Mouth.

She began with his trembling lips, licking the smooth cream off them. Like the kiss of only a few minutes prior, Diana used no hands.

Down she went, to his nipples. Out came that wily tongue of hers again, lapping up the chocolate with swirling motions that were pure magic.

Instinctively, Clark's hands flew to her hips, pulling Diana closer.

She laughed then effortlessly removed his hands, placing them at his side with a playful admonishment to, "Be good. Stay still."

This wasn't a dare, Clark concluded when Diana continued her languorous trek down his body, licking as she went, devouring the ice cream as well as his self-control.

It was pure torture, and Diana excelled at it.

Reaching his stomach, her tongue slithered out, finishing off the last of the ice cream and cleaning his belly button, her tongue wide and flat as she lapped at him.

Dammit, he was so hard, ready to come from one measly dare. _And Diana hadn't touched me with her hands or put that ice cream on the one place I really wanted her to lick. _

Diana beamed down at Clark in self-satisfaction, a drop of chocolate on her lips.

Leaning up, he licked it off then suckled her bottom lip, pulling it into his mouth and playing.

The widening of her eyes and the scent of her own arousal made Clark feel a little better about having almost come in his damn shorts.

"I suggest you get that sweet bottom off me, or I'm going to finish what you wickedly started."

Diana giggled, but lifted off Clark, granting him a shred of dignity when she pretended to not notice the raging bulge in his pants.

After several painful minutes of willing his erection into retreat, Clark was finally able to look at Diana without fighting the urge to tumble her right here and now.

"I take it your dare was to lick ice cream off my chest or was it to turn me on with your tongue instead of your hands?"

"When I plucked, I made a mistake and chose two cards. I read them both and decided to combine the two dares into one fun challenge."

"You found that fun? Torturing me?"

"Yes, immensely. Next time I'd like to use strawberry ice cream instead."

"Yeah, I just bet you would. Well, ice cream cones aren't free, you know?"

"Really? Do you plan on charging me for the pleasure of treating you as my personal dessert? Hal told me that a person who charges for their sexual favors is called a—"

The pillow Diana had thrown at Clark earlier hit dead center, right in her smart mouth. The woman was simply unbelievable.

She devolved into another fit of laughter. Diana really did have the most fantastic laugh Clark had ever heard. Tonight, as wild and unpredictable as it had been, was by far Clark's best date. Not simply his best date with Diana but his best date ever.

_No wonder Steve wanted to marry her. Diana is a keeper, no doubt about that._

"It's your turn, Blue Bunny."

Clark chose to ignore her joke, because he had a plan. "For a point, I will complete the truth _and _the dare."

"You just keep changing the rules as we go along." Diana gave an Oscar worthy sigh Clark didn't believe for a minute. "It matters not. I'm still going to win. I assume your rule of convenience works both ways."

Unfortunately, Clark would have to agree to that. "Fine."

"Tell me something, Clark, were you always so competitive?"

He was, but he'd had to keep his competitive side on lockdown lest he reveal he wasn't like the other kids. So he'd channeled much of his energy into other things like writing and farm work. Even when he'd played football, because Clark had to be so careful of not hurting someone or running too fast, it sucked most of the fun out of the game.

"Only _you_ manage to bring out my competitive side."

Diana's eyes roamed his body, beginning with his sticky, bare chest before moving to his lean waist then his powerful thighs - her perusal brazen and thorough.

Her bold and open appreciation for his muscular form humbled Clark as much as it turned him on.

"What can I do to get you to show me more of Clark Kent?"

Clark gulped, feeling more like Diana's dessert than he had when she'd spread ice cream all over his chest.

Mind and body at war, Clark plucked a red card and read it to himself. Grinning, he grabbed Diana off the bed, dragged her into his closet, closed the door and pinned her to the back wall, his shirt and pants a curtain of cotton and silk around them.

"If you picked Dare," Clark said, hand going to Diana's waist, fingers skimming then lifting her shirt so he could feel her skin, "drag your partner to the closet for an adult round of seven minutes in heaven. You must keep the making out above the belt." Clark's other hand slipped to Diana's very fine ass, squeezed then gave it a little smack. "I think I'll ignore that last part."

Another smack.

Harder this time.

"Our seven minutes begins now," Clark whispered. Then he crushed his mouth against Diana's, swallowing her shocked moan.

* * *

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

* * *

Clark Kent was a most wicked man. When Diana had only known him as Superman, she thought him serious, focused, maybe even a tad boring. But once they'd begun dating, she'd come to learn that he was so much more than the superhero he presented to the world, even to the members of the Justice League. And—_umm, that's so good_—the way his mouth and hands had fixated on her breasts, kissing, caressing, sucking, and squeezing, told her he'd disagreed with her earlier answer about the worst thing about being her gender. Right now, Diana disagreed as well. If having breasts meant she could experience the flooding heat and thudding ache of desire Clark expertly evoked, Diana would gladly recant.

Up, up she went, off the floor and against the closet wall, held only by Clark's hands at her waist. His tongue—_yes, right there_—swirled around a nipple, flicking it back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

An inferno of pleasure rushed through Diana, her arched back a physical response to the need riding her. Clark was so good, so proficient at building the fire and stoking the flames until Diana became a purring engine under his masterful touch.

"If you ever decide to get rid of the girls, I'd gladly take them off your hands," he breathed against her.

_The girls? _"And you'd do what with them?"

A nip and a squeeze to "the girls" proceeded Clark's muffled response, muffled because he kept his face buried between Diana's rather large breasts. "Exactly what I'm doing now, but I'd get to do it anytime I wanted."

"Disembodied breasts? That sounds kind of freaky and weird."

"If you haven't noticed, Diana, this game is all about being freaky and weird."

"That's true."

On a frustrated exhale, Clark lowered Diana to the floor. "If I'm correct, my seven minutes in heaven ended five seconds ago."

Disappointment washed over Diana, but she permitted Clark to demurely put her clothing to rights before taking hold of her hand and helping her from the closet. The man had the most amazing knack of vacillating between being a perfect gentleman and a sex god. _The two aren't necessarily mutually exclusive, _Diana reminded herself. No they weren't, Clark the living, breathing embodiment of that truth.

"Don't sit back in your chair. Join me on the bed. It is, after all, your bed and not mine."

Clark's lips quirked up at the ends, a sly smile that set off all Diana's warning signals. He'd promised to repay her for her teasing and mocking. Diana didn't doubt Clark would try. The question was how hard Diana would work to thwart his efforts.

She bounced a few feet into the air when Clark jumped his six foot three inch, two hundred plus pound body onto the bed. When Diana landed, she knew she was smiling like she'd never before smiled.

And laughing.

Diana hadn't laughed this much in ages. Sadly enough, she couldn't remember the last time she'd had this much fun, by herself or with someone else, not even with Zola or Hessia. But tonight, with Clark, she'd somehow managed to forget about her multitude of responsibilities. _Like keeping Zola and Zeke safe and figuring out a way to reverse what Hera did to Mother and my sisters._

Yet this singular man had achieved what Diana herself could not. _He's got me to relax and have fun, reminding me how good it feels to be a young woman. _

"Okay, now for the truth and my one point."

Something else Diana had forgotten. Clark Kent was bound and determined to win. Apparently, by any means necessary, even if that meant changing the rules mid-game as he'd done right before their seven minutes of heaven in the closet. The thought that the upright Superman was in fact a little cheat brought a broad smile.

Shirtless, Clark stretched out at the foot of the bed, while Diana sat cross-legged in the middle. The sight of all those rippling muscles had her eyes following the path of dark hair that began at the base of his flat, toned stomach, meandered up his chest and to the smattering of dark curls around the nipples she'd so enjoyed eating ice cream off of. Clark was beautifully made, a sculpture's muse and then some. Yet super strength had nothing to do with his bodybuilder physique, Diana knew. Clark had earned his muscles the good old fashioned way. He'd worked for them by exercising and making healthy dietary choices, the same as Diana.

Clark reached for his pile of red cards. His memory was impeccable, so Diana wasn't surprised when Clark didn't review his previously picked card but recited the question from memory. "In three words, describe your partner's in-bed personality."

Though she would never tell him, Diana was interested in Clark's answer. Being lovers was not the same as knowing how your lover perceived you as a romantic partner. With Steve, she'd been naïve, cautious, and, in the beginning, unsure of what to do to please him. She'd soon discovered there was very little a woman did in the bedroom that did not bring a man pleasure, particularly if she were an unselfish lover.

With Clark, Diana could reveal even more of herself, able to let down her guard because she was unafraid of losing control and hurting him in a bout of unbridled passion. Such thoughts had Diana lifting her eyes to Clark's when he seemed to have read her mind. "Passionate. You're definitely a passionate lover. You don't hold back. I like that. And I can be the same way with you. I like that even more."

Clark found a knee and circled it with an index finger, traveling farther up her leg with each rotation until his hand rested on her bare thigh.

"You make me feel as if you really want to be with me, as if there is no place you would rather be than in my arms, making love with me."

No jokes, no mocking humor, just stark honesty from the man holding her gaze.

"How do you do that? How can you have that effect on me?"

They sounded like rhetorical questions or even self-reflective ones, but Diana answered, anyway.

"You have the same effect on me, Clark. Must it be explained if we experience and produce the same feelings in each other?"

"I suppose not. But it is nice."

"Very. And the other two words?"

Clark dragged his hand down her thigh, the knee and back to his side. "I would also describe your in-bed personality as giving and sensual."

Passionate, giving, and sensual. His description touched Diana, made her feel like a woman not simply the warrior Amazon princess most people thought of her as.

"Thank you."

"For what? Stating the obvious?"

It wasn't obvious, but Diana was pleased that it was to Clark.

"You're sweet."

He groaned with exaggeration. "Ugh, again with the sweet. From any other woman, it would be the death knell for me. Have you ever heard that 'nice guys finish last'?"

"No."

"Well, it's often true. The same goes for 'sweet' guys. Women tend to like them for friends and confidants but not boyfriends. They want alpha men for that role."

"You are an alpha male."

"No, Superman is alpha; Clark Kent is sweet."

And there he went again separating himself into categories as if he weren't describing one man. But Diana was beginning to understand. Perception, in Clark Kent's world, trumped the truth.

"I see both."

"I know you do. Even when I don't think you do, you at least try. Besides my parents, no one's ever taken the time or effort to get to know all of me."

"That's because you won't let them."

Rolling onto his back, Clark stared up at the ceiling. "I know. It's unfair to blame others for my secrets. But you see me, you know me. That's all I need."

In time, it wouldn't be. Perhaps even shouldn't be. But those were thoughts for more serious evenings. Tonight was about letting loose and having freaky and weird fun.

With that thought, Diana found her cards, selected one and read. The question was easy enough to answer, but she chose not to. It would involve yet another response that included the time she and Steve were together. They'd discussed Steve enough for one night, no need to keep dragging her ex into her date with Clark. So that left the dare.

Diana read and reread. By the fourth reading, Diana still had no idea what it meant.

"What's wrong? Why are you frowning at the card?"

"May I use your iPad?"

"Sure."

It was on the nightstand next to the bed. She grabbed it and began typing. She went to the first website listed and read a couple of lines. She knew it was a crustacean, of course, but Diana also knew she was missing the cultural context of the dare.

Going back to the search engine, Diana typed in the dare itself. Hits popped up and she began reading. Scrolling, she saw an image that had her inwardly swearing then sliding the tablet back onto the nightstand.

"You have yourself another point, Clark."

Clearly surprised, Clark sprang to a seated position. "Why? You never fold." He glanced at the card balled in Diana's hand. "The truth and dare must be a humdinger if Wonder Woman is afraid."

"I'm not afraid. And stop looking at me like that. I don't appreciate the snarky grin."

"Men don't have snarky grins, Diana, that's left to the fairer sex with breasts they don't like because they jiggle and wiggle and get in the way."

Diana had never liked being made fun of, which all but put a bull's-eye on her back when she was a child, particularly for the likes of the much bigger and mouthier Alexa. "It doesn't matter. I don't want to answer the question, and I refuse to do the dare. So take your point and be happy."

Mistake. Her vehemence was like blood in the water to Clark's shark.

He pounced, wrestling Diana down and ticking her. Before she knew it, she was laughing then sputtering when she realized it was a mere ploy to get the card away from her. Fending Diana off, Clark read the blasted card.

"Go out in public scratching your crotch and say to passersby, 'Damn these crabs really itch. Can you give me a hand?"

When Clark fell onto the bed, shock giving way to hearty guffaws, she had a petty urge to push him off the bed.

"Do it. Do the dare," he barely got out between howls. "I double dare you."

His stomach shook and his eyes filled with laugh tears. "I triple dare you. Priceless. You, scratching your crotch in public would be priceless. I can see the headline now, 'Move Over Maryland, Wonder Woman Now Has the Best Crabs'."

She thought he would choke, the way he barked out his laughter, doubled-over as he did so. Or maybe Diana only wished Clark would choke. Anything to shut him up.

Diana harrumphed. "I refuse. Amazons don't scratch their crotches nor make such vulgar statements."

"They are also supposed to be fearless. Yet here you sit, afraid of a little embarrassment."

"It's demeaning."

"It's a game. A game I'm going to win because my opponent is a crab – hard exterior but once cracked nothing but soft insides. No real challenge."

"It won't work."

"What won't work?"

"Taunting me with your insults. It won't work. I'm not scratching myself in public and claiming I have a sexually transmitted disease I'd never heard of until two minutes ago."

"Suit yourself, Diana. No need to get all crabby about it."

Clark Kent was so not funny, yet that didn't stop him from laughing and enjoying his own juvenile humor.

"Anyway," she ground out, "that forfeiture brings you within one point of my score. If you answer your next question and complete the dare, then we'll be tied."

The thought of tying the game had Clark perking up and quieting his mocking laughter.

"Yes, time for Clark to bring home the gold."

Now the ultra-competitive man was referring to himself in the third person. What would he do if he actually won? Well, Diana wouldn't find out, because after that last pitiful round there would be no more forfeitures, no matter how undignified the dares might be. Even as Diana had the thought, her mind rebelled against the thought. She had her limits and her pride. Winning wasn't everything, but beating Clark Kent at his own game appealed too much to Diana's warrior instinct.

The remainder of the game might not bode well for her.

Clark read the next card in his stack. "If you were to create an original sex move, what would you call it?"

"Oh, please, don't say 'The Superman.' You're a writer, I would hope you could come up with something more creative than that."

A single eyebrow lifted, then his gaze shifted to her breasts, braless under her shirt. And, with just that look, Diana was back in the closet with him, Clark's magnificent mouth on her nipples, worshipping them the way she liked. The memory had her closing her eyes, the ache between her thighs all too real, as was the heart pounding from the sheer thought.

"You know very well how creative I can be."

Yes, yes, she did, especially when they were at the Fortress, no one able to hear how loud he could make her.

Opening eyes to half-mast, she watched Clark watch her. The intensity of his stare was enough to melt her where she sat.

"I'm going to answer this question, then crawl over there and gobble you up with my dare."

"Is that a threat?" If it were, it would be the first threat leveled against her she had no interest in defending herself against. In fact, she would welcome it. Anything to curb the growing hunger in her lower belly.

"A promise, for us both. But back to the original sex move."

Clark's index finger went to his dimpled chin and tapped, considering the question as he repeated the move several times. A minute later, blue eyes lit and she knew Clark had an answer.

"Hot Rod."

Diana repeated the name in her head. Doing so did not bring clarity, so she admitted, "I don't get it."

"Think about it."

She did, but nothing immediately came to mind. Then she remembered the first time they'd made love outside. They'd landed in a snowy region of Austria after a JL mission. They hadn't seen each other for two weeks. When they did during the mission, Bruce and the others were around, so they'd had to keep their hands and feelings for each other to themselves. On their way home, they'd taken a detour through the mountainous country.

Once landing, they'd ripped into each other, Clark having just enough thought to use his cape as a blanket on which Diana could lay. She did, but after a while, cold began to set in. Unwilling to be conquered by the frigid temperatures, Clark had taken it upon himself to keep Diana warm.

Kneeling, he'd did the most amazing thing. He heated his penis to a perfect temperature before joining them once more. The pulsing, heat sensation had been the most erotic Diana had ever experienced. He did it over and over, warming her from the inside out. His heated thrusts set off spasms of release, drenching him in her liquid heat.

Yes, a hot rod indeed. Her screams had caused a small avalanche, forcing the amorous couple to make a hasty, albeit naked, retreat.

"Good answer."

"I thought so. We should do that again."

The mere mention of having his overheated body inside her had Diana squirming at the thought.

"Preferably without the snow and the mountaintop," he added.

Diana couldn't agree more.

Clark's naughty smile was Diana's only warning. But that second of recognition wasn't long enough for Diana to react.

Down she went.

Clark on top of her, pinning Diana underneath his massive body, his mouth on hers.

And she melted, body going boneless from the carnal assault to her over sensitized body.

Pinpricks of womanly need coated every inch of Diana, so much so it was close to pain. And his mouth, his tongue, his greedy, relentless kiss added to her torment. Once leaving Themyscria, Diana had heard the phrase "patience is a virtue." In some situations, Diana could agree, but not in all. _Like right now when all I want to do is—_

A hand found her wet secret and began to stroke.

Diana moaned, lifted her hips upward and began to rock into that wonderfully hard hand. It felt incredible, what she wanted but not nearly enough. Clark's hand was where she wanted it to be, his fingers deft, slipping in and out with an intoxicating rhythm. But it wasn't enough, the pressure too soft, the movements too slow. Not at all how she liked it, not at all how Clark normally did it. But the exquisite pain was playing havoc with her self-control, with the molten hot need that threatened to consume her, to erupt and take out all in its path if only Clark would . . .

Then Diana realized. _Damn him._ Clark was doing this on purpose, guiding her to but not over the precipice.

She made to speak, to curse him for taking her to the edge of release but refusing to send her over into sweet, sweet oblivion. But he kept kissing her, his tongue and hand reducing Diana to irritated, needy moans.

Diana clutched at his shoulders, tempted to shove him away. Instead, she drew him closer, raised her legs, and opened herself more fully to his exploration. It was also an invitation to stop this game of one-upmanship and get on with what they both wanted, both desired.

Her tongue rimmed his ear before she whispered, "I want you. Now."

The shudder that began in Clark went through Diana. Surely his need was as great as her own. The man couldn't possibly have so much willpower that he could—

In the air Clark went, lifting off a stunned Diana. Eyes blazing red, chest heaving as if he'd traversed Earth ten times, Clark winked at Diana. But when his mouth parted and he spoke, Diana nearly screamed her sexual frustration.

"Stimulate two parts of your partner's body at once. Use your hands on one part and lips on another." Another wink, and then a smug smile. "There was no time limit to the dare, but I decided now was a good time to end this round." He floated back down to the bed, at the foot again, not over Diana. "Besides, I've earned my one point. I saw no reason to continue."

_No reason to continue?_ She silently raged.

Clark's uneven breathing belied his arrogant words, though. Still, he had rightfully earned his point, albeit in the most annoyingly and pleasurable way imaginable. Diana tingled all over, her patience nearly at its breaking point. If they didn't make love soon, Diana would have to expend her built-up sexual energy another way. Which meant going to the Watchtower and destroying a few dozen sparring sentinels. Bruce wouldn't be pleased, but it would be better than Diana cruising the skies for some random villain to beat the hell out of.

"You're going to pay for making me wait to have you."

"You mean making you wait to come."

Yes, that's exactly what she meant. _Damn the man._

"I could do it myself, you know."

"I know, but you won't. It would be like admitting defeat, and you'll never do that."

Damn him to Hades. He was right, and Clark knew it.

As she lay in Clark's bed, body on fire and in need of completion, Diana came to several conclusions. One, she was, disturbingly, as weak in the flesh as anyone else, except, apparently, Clark. Two, she could not touch Clark or allow him to touch her again without humiliating herself if he decided to put a halt to their intimacy once more. Foreplay had its place, and she enjoyed it immensely, but enough was enough. Three, she would have the last laugh when she earned three points by using Clark's fantasy locale as her final dare of the night. The only other she would permit.

"You're plotting. I can hear the wheels turning in your head."

"Be quiet, and tend to your own thoughts."

"Oh, I am, and they are telling me that we are once again tied."

"Fine. Whatever. But this is the last round." She sat up, only to find Clark doing the same, his eyes boring into her with primal satisfaction. _He thinks he's won. He thinks he's forced me into an ungracious retreat. Even if I earn the last three points, Clark will never allow me to live down this moment of weakness._

"A convenient rule change, Diana?"

"Not a rule change, Clark. I'm abiding by _your _rule change. For a point, I'll answer the next truth question and complete the dare. But not the dare on the card. Instead, you can hand me your folded red card and we can play your 'Don't Get Caught' game. As I said before, that will be my last dare."

Clark's grin turned wolfish at Diana's words.

"It's late, and I don't wish to be led around by my hormones for the rest of the night. I have better things to do than allow you to toy with me."

"Better things? Like what?"

Diana shot him a "wouldn't you like to know" look, but decided to tell him anyway.

"There's a new heavy metal club Zola told me about. Maybe I'll swing past there once I'm done here."

"A night club? By yourself? At this time of night?"

Diana glanced at the clock on Clark's nightstand. "It's just midnight now. Once I get there, it will be in full swing. Just the way I like it."

"You're trying to get me jealous."

Actually, she wasn't. It had occurred to Diana, when she decided against going to the Watchtower and sparring or hunting for villains, that getting lost in a crowd of strangers and dancing for a few hours would be the next best thing to getting naked and sweaty with Clark.

"No. I'm trying to win this game. And I will. I never said you couldn't tag-a-long."

"Tag-a-long?"

Diana's stack of red and pink cards were all over the rumpled bed. So were Clark's. That didn't matter, any card would do. So she grabbed and read the closest one to her.

"We're not done talking about the nightclub."

"There's nothing to talk about. I don't need your permission to go."

Now that was said to push his buttons, his glare a rewarding sight to behold. Clark really was a sexy man, even when upset, like he was now. _Good, serves him right for stopping things every time it turned interesting._

She read the card aloud, pointedly ignoring him. "Call a friend or colleague and tell them you want to do a naughty thing with him or her. Your partner gets to select the friend or colleague."

Dammit. Why in the hell hadn't she taken longer to select her last card?

"Not this one. I meant to read the question not the dare."

"You read it you do it."

"Since when is that a rule?"

"Since now."

"Clark Kent, you are the most unspeakably competitive person I have ever met. Worst, you are also a big, red cape wearing cheater."

"Hey, don't hate the cape, Diana, hate the game."

"Oh, I do. Truth or Dare my Amazonian—"

"Tsk, tsk, language, my sweet."

The smug smile was back. It wasn't a good look on him. Now her body tingled with another desire – a palm itch to smack her lover. Not that Clark had lived up to that role tonight.

"I have the perfect person for you to call."

Clark snatched up Diana's phone from his dresser and handed it to her. "Call—"

"Hal Jordan. I know."

"You know? How? That was going to be my big 'gotcha ya'."

"Because," she said, pulling up her contacts list and scrolling to the H's, "you want to know Hal's reaction, to see if he'll accept or decline my offer. It's so very male, so very Batman of you."

A hand came up and pushed its way through Clark's messy dark hair. "You make it sound beneath me."

"It is. Hal is your friend. Like the whole damn world, he now knows we're together."

"And that means what to a guy like Hal Jordan . . . or Steve Trevor, for that matter?"

"You're right, it may not. But it means everything to me. You may not trust them, but you should trust me. But if you need reassurance, I'll place the call."

"I should stop you."

"Yes, you should." But Diana knew he wouldn't. He had yet to truly accept that Diana had chosen him as her companion and that what she saw in him surpassed what she saw in other males. The call she would make, the line on the other end already ringing, wasn't about Clark's lack of trust or faith in Diana but how he defined his worth beyond being Superman. Clark Kent was the one in need of reassurance, not Superman. _And now he has me thinking of him as different people. Great._

"Diana?" Hal sounded surprised. "Is something wrong? An emergency?"

Although it was unnecessary with Clark's superior hearing, Diana put the phone on speaker.

"No, Hal, nothing like that."

She heard him expel a breath. "That's good. You've never called me on my personal line before so I just assumed, well, you know what I assumed."

"Yes, I apologize. I assume since you answered you're on Earth. That's good, very good."

"Why is that? I'm sure if you needed some heavy lifting done, you could call Metropolis' finest in blue-and-red."

Diana's gaze went to Clark. His expression was flat, almost emotionless. But he was attentively listening, stroking his own insecurities.

"That won't be necessary, Hal. I was thinking that you might like to join me at this new London nightclub I heard about. The music is supposed to be loud and good."

"Wait? Huh? Are you asking me out?"

"I'm asking you to have a drink or two with me, perhaps even a dance. You do know how to dance, don't you, Hal?"

Diana intensely disliked this dare. It was mean and she would have to make this up to Green Lantern. Despite it all, if he did agree, she would have that drink and dance with him. Diana would owe him that much.

Hal barked a rude laugh. "What, are you trying to get my ass kicked by Superboyfriend? I don't think so, Diana. Did you two have a lover's spat? Are you trying to make him jealous? Or have you been smokin' the really good stuff?"

Diana refrained from rolling her eyes. This was the Hal Jordan she knew and would never date.

"None of the above. I just thought we could have a little fun together, tonight. One. Night."

There was a long, uncomfortable pause on the other end, which had Clark staring at the phone as if he could see through it and to wherever Hal was. Surely even Hal Jordan couldn't be this much of an insensitive, sex hungry jerk that he would take Diana up on her offer, knowing she and Clark were together.

"He's there, isn't he? Listening to this entire conversation?"

She wouldn't lie.

"Yes. He wants to know the answer as much as I do."

More silence on Hal's end then a litany of colorful curses and something about "calling dibs."

"You have no idea how many times I dreamed of having you invite me to your bed, hell, to invite me for a drink or dinner. Naked and sweaty, boy, the stories I could tell you about what I envisioned us doing afterward would— Is that Clark snarling in the background?"

"No, it's the television. Nature channel," she lied.

"Anyway, you are so damn hot, legs go on forever and don't get me started on your bodacious br—That _is_ him snarling. Dammit, Clark, your girl called me. If you want to be upset with someone, take it out on the Amazon."

Between Clark acting like a rabid dog and Hal being, well, Hal, the only thing missing from this farce was Batman and his disapproving scowl.

"I take it you're not interested then."

"Weren't you listening? I damn sure am interested. One night with you would be like winning the Stanley Cup, Super Bowl, Wimbledon, the World Series, the NBA Championship, and ten Olympic gold medals. Then, afterwards, I'd smoke a Cuban cigar and go to Disney World."

Leave it to Hal to both flatter and exaggerate.

"So, you will meet me?" The man really needed to learn how to answer a simple question.

"Not on your sweet ass, Diana, because I damn sure value mine. If you and the snarling Pit Bull ever break up, you have my number. Like the song says, 'Just call me and I'll me there in a hurry'."

_Click._

Diana stared at the phone, strangely amused instead of annoyed.

"I don't like him."

"Yes you do."

"No I don't. He wants to have sex with you."

"It doesn't matter what Hal wants. No more than it matters to me that there are endless female Hals who throw themselves at you every day, who would do any and everything Superman asked of them."

His petulant, "I don't want them. I want you," warmed Diana.

She smiled.

"Precisely." Diana closed the short distance between them. A hand lifted to Clark's face, still red from anger, and caressed his stubborn jaw. "And I want only you. Not Hal. Not Steve. Not anyone else but you. If I didn't, I wouldn't be here, allowing you to toy with me the way you have been this last hour or so." She kissed his cheek, then inhaled his unique Kryptonian scent. "I want you." Part whisper, part plea, all true.

A strong arm wrapped around her waist. "And I want you. But not here, though."

Before she knew it, Clark had her blindfolded with one of his silk ties and was leading her through the late, night sky - destination unknown. They flew at a leisurely pace, which gave Diana time to center herself. Once she did, Diana inwardly shook her head at all the silly, fun things she and Clark had done this evening. They were a work in progress, to be sure. Diana had no idea where this relationship would lead or even where she wanted it to go, but there was one thing she did know.

When they landed and Clark finally removed his tie from around her head, Diana beamed at the sight before her. Yes, there was one thing Diana knew quite well. _I love this man._

Diana peered out at the magnificent Champs de Mars. Even at five thirty in the morning, Diana could still make out the beauty of the Paris park named after the Campus Martius in Rome, a tribute to the Latin name of the Greek God of War. Situated between the Ecole Militaire to the southeast and the Eiffel Tower, where Diana and Clark stood, to the northwest, the view, with the lights from the Tower a beacon to lovers, was breathtaking.

For long minutes, Diana didn't speak, silently taking in the wonder of Paris from an advantageous spot no tourist would ever see. There was just something so magical about Paris at night. Made even more so because she was with Clark, his arms wrapped snuggly around Diana's waist, his chin on her shoulder.

"I thought you wanted to play the 'Don't Get Caught' game. There's no one here to see us if we decide to get amorous."

"True. I guess we would have to come back in a few hours if we want to shock people with our bare butts and heavy panting."

Diana smiled.

Clark kissed her neck – tender and loving. "I'm not interested in sharing you with anyone else, right now, or in rushing or cutting our lovemaking short in an effort to not get caught by people who, if they knew we were Superman and Wonder Woman, would probably record us and sell the video to 'Superheroes Gone Wild'."

"Please tell me that is not a real show."

A second kiss to her neck, higher this time and much longer, much sweeter.

Diana sighed and settled deeper into Clark's cozy embrace.

"I have a list."

"A list of what?"

"My top romantic places I wish to take you."

This had Diana turning in Clark's arms.

He smiled down at her then kissed her nose. "Don't look so taken aback. Just because I've spent my life being Clark Kent and I want to share that part of myself with you, that doesn't mean I don't realize that I'm also Superman and I'm dating Wonder Woman. We're capable of going most places whenever we wish. I find that I like that idea very much, because there are so many beautiful places in this world to see. But what joy is there in being able to reach them in a matter of seconds, minutes if I take my time, if I have to experience them by myself?"

Warm, full lips pressed against hers, but it wasn't like the kisses they'd shared earlier. Diana had no name for it, but pleasure and want and need and love radiated from Clark and stole Diana's breath.

He spoke against her mouth. "Maldives, Costa Rica, Seychelles, Hayman Island, Bahamas, Tahiti, Aspen, Venice, Santorini, Hawaii, and Paris."

_His list of romantic getaways for us._ Clark Kent was pure saccharin to Diana's warrior soul, womanly heart, so very delicious and addictive.

Arms wrapped around his neck. "And what will we do at all those wonderful places?"

"Find the highest peak or the bluest water and make love."

What could a woman say to that, even Wonder Woman?

Nothing. Not even when Clark undressed them and began to make love to Diana, her eyes once more going to the rolling green before her, his hard body pressed against her back, her hands gripping a rail, Clark's her hips.

Diana had never felt so glorious, so free, so happy, so in love.

Clark bit her back, her shoulder, her neck, forcing her eyes closed from the pleasure of it all, her head tilting back against his shoulder as he thrust deep and deeper. Her mouth opening on an orgasmic scream loud enough to wake the good citizens of Paris.

But Clark's release was much quieter - hard, rough grunts for her ears only.

When he returned Diana home, tucking her in before leaving, exhausted eyes watched him hover outside her bedroom window, red cape billowing in the early morning sky, his cobalt eyes as enchanting as the rising sun. And when Clark gave her his signature Superman smile and blew Diana a kiss, she was sure his parting words would travel with her into satiated slumber.

Before he flew away, however, she glimpsed the return of the competitive, naughty Clark Kent. His grin widened and he mouthed, "I won. Goodnight, Diana."

_Won? You little Kryptonian cheat. _

Then, like so many times tonight, Diana burst into laughter. Clark may have won this battle, but if this was what it felt like to lose to Superman then . . . _Good night, Clark, until next time._

* * *

**THE END**

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Okay guys, that's the conclusion to another fic. I hope you enjoyed the silly, sexy story. Clark and Diana need to laugh more in the comics. They deserve to have a bit of goofy, youthful fun; hence, this story. Thanks again for reading. Leave a comment, if you like.


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